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LIPPINCOTT'S CLASSICS 

EDITED BY EDWIN L. MILLER, A.M. 

PRINCIPAL OF THE NORTHERN HIGH SCHOOL, DETROIT, MICH. 



SIR WALTER SCOTT'S 
LADY OF THE LAKE 



LIPPINCOTT'S CLASSICS 

EDITED BY EDWIN L. MILLER, A.M. 

PRINCIPAL OF THE NORTHERN HIGH SCHOOL, DETROIT, MICH. 



BURKE'S CONCILIATION 

With Notes By E. L. MILLER, A.M. 

SHAKESPEARE'S MACBETH 

With Notes By CHAS. R. GASTON 

SHAKESPEARE'S MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM 

With Notes By CLARENCE STRATTON 

COLERIDGE'S THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT 
MARINER AND OTHER POEMS 

With Notes By LOUISE POUND, Ph.D. 

TENNYSON'S IDYLLS OF THE KING 

With Notes By WILLIS H. WILCOX, Ph.M. 

SCOTT'S LADY OF THE LAKE 

With Notes By J. MILNOR DOREY, A.M. 

GREAT AMERICAN SPEECHES 

With Notes By CLARENCE STRATTON 
IN PREPARATION 

SHAKESPEARE'S JULIUS C^SAR 

With Notes By MISS MARY McKITTRICK 

DICKENS'S TALE OF TWO CITIES 

With Notes By W. WILBUR HATFIELD 

SCOTT'S IVANKOE 

With Notes By T. H. BAIR 

SHAKESPEARE'S TEMPEST 

With Notes By O. J. P. WIDSTOE 

GEORGE ELIOT'S SILAS MARNER 

With Notes By WILLIAM M. OTTO 

LINCOLN'S SPEECHES 

With Notes By J. de ROULHAC HAMILTON 

BURNS'S POEMS 

With Notes By E. L. MILLER 

BOSWELL'S JOHNSON 

With Notes By J. M. SKINNING 




SIR WALTER SCOTT 



LIPPINCOTT'S CLASSICS 

EDITED BY EDWIN L. MILLER, A.M. 

PRINCIPAL OF THE NORTHERN HIGH SCHOOL, DETROIT, MICH. 



SCOTT'S 
LADY OF THE LAKE 



WITH NOTES AND INTRODUCTION 
BY 

J. MILNOR DOREY, A.M. (Harvard) 



PHILADELPHIA AND LONDON 
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 



f?53^^ 



I 



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COPYRIGHT, I92I, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



m 10 1921 



PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 

AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS 

PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A. 



©CI.A617271 

. / U 



TO 

D. C. D. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

INTRODUCTION 

Scott's Boyhood, Abridged from his Autobiography 9 

Outline of his Later Life 21 

Scott's Introduction to "The Lady of the Lake " 22 

How TO Dramatize the Poem 27 

THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

Canto I 33 

Canto II 57 

Canto III 84 

Canto IV 108 

Canto V i34 

Canto VI , 162 

NOTES 

Canto I. . .- 189 

Canto II 192 

Canto III I9S 

Canto IV 196 

Canto V 198 

Canto VI. i99 



INTRODUCTION 

scott's boyhood 
(Abridged from his Autobiography) 

Walter Scott, my father, was born in 1729, and edu- 
cated to the profession of a Writer to the Signet. I was 
born, as I beHeve, on the 15th August, 1771. I showed 
every sign of health and strength until I was about eigh- 
teen months old. One night, I have been often told, 
I showed great reluctance to be caught and put to bed; 
and after being chased about the room was apprehended 
and consigned to my dormitory with some difficulty. It 
was the last time I was to show such personal agility. 
In the morning I was discovered to be affected with the 
fever which often accompanies the cutting of large teeth. 
It held me three days. On the fourth, when they went to 
bathe me as usual, they discovered that J had lost the 
power of my right leg. My grandfather, an excellent 
anatomist as well as physician, the late worthy Alexander 
Wood, and many others of the most respectable of the 
faculty, were consulted. There appeared to be no dislo- 
cation or sprain ; blisters and other topical remedies were 
applied in vain. The advice of my grandfather, Dr. 
Rutherford, that I should be sent to reside in the country, 
to give the chance of natural exertion, excited by free 
air and liberty, was first resorted to; and before I have 
the recollection of the slightest event I was, agreeably to 
this friendly counsel, an inmate in the farmhouse of 
Sandy-Knowe. 

It is here at Sandy-Knowe, in the residence of my 
paternal grandfather, already mentioned, that I have the 
first consciousness of existence. 



Lady of the Lake 

My grandmother, in whose youth the old Border 
depredations were matter of recent tradition, used to tell 
me many a tale of Watt of Harden, Wight Willie of 
Aikwood, Jamie Telfer of the fair Dodhead, and other 
heroes — merrymen all of the persuasion and calling of 
Robin Hood and Little John. Two or three old books 
which lay in the window seat were explored for my amuse- 
ment in the tedious winter days. Automathes and Ram- 
say's Tea-table Miscellanies were my favorites, although 
at a later period an odd volume of Josephus's Wars of the 
Jezvs divided my partiality. 

My kind and affectionate aunt, Miss Janet Scott, 
whose memory will ever be dear to me, used to read these 
works to me with admirable patience, until I could repeat 
long passages by heart. The ballad of Hardyknute I was 
early master of, to the great annoyance of almost our only 
visitor, the worthy clergyman of the parish, Dr. Duncan, 
who had not patience to have a sober chat interrupted by 
my shouting forth this ditty. Methinks I now see his 
tall, thin, emaciated figure, his legs cased in clasped gam- 
badoes, and his face of a length that would have rivaled 
the Knight of La Mancha's, and hear him exclaiming, 
" One may as well speak in the mouth of a cannon as 
where that child is." 

I was in my fourth year when my father was advised 
that the Bath waters might be of some advantage to my 
lameness. My affectionate aunt, although such a journey 
promised to a person of her retired habits anything but 
pleasure or amusement, undertook as readily to accompany 
me to the wells of Bladud as if she had expected all the 
delight that ever the prospect of a watering place held out 
to its most impatient visitants. My health was by this 
time a good deal confirmed by the country air and the 
influence of that imperceptible and unf atiguing exercise to 
which the good sense of my grandfather had subjected 
me; for, when the day was fine, I was usually carried out 



Lady of the Lake 

and laid down beside the old shepherd, among the crags 
or rocks round which he fed his sheep. The impatience 
of a child soon inclined me to struggle with my infirmity, 
and I began by degrees to stand, to walk, and to run. 
Although the limb affected was much shrunk and con- 
tracted, my general health, which was of more importance, 
was much strengthened by being frequently in the open 
air; and, in a word, I, who in a city had probably been 
condemned to hopeless and helpless decrepitude, was now 
a healthy, high-spirited, and, my lameness apart, a 
sturdy child. 

During my residence at Bath I acquired the rudi- 
ments of reading at a day school kept by an old dame 
near our lodgings, and I had never a more regular teacher, 
although I think I did not attend her a quarter of a year. 
An occasional lesson from my aunt supplied the rest. 
Afterwards, when grown a big boy, I had a few lessons 
fromi Mr. Stalker, of Edinburgh, and finally from the 
Rev. Mr. Cleeve. But I never acquired a just pronun- 
ciation, nor could I read with much propriety. 

The most delightful recollections of Bath are dated 
after the arrival of my uncle, Captain Robert Scott, who 
introduced me to all the little amusements which suited 
my age, and, above all, to the theater. The play was 
As You Like It; and the witchery of the whole scene 
is alive in my mind at this moment. I made, I believe, noise 
more than enough, and remember being so much scandal- 
ized at the quarrel between Orlando and his brother, in 
the first scene, that I screamed out, *' A'n't they brothers ? " 
A few weeks' residence at home convinced me, who had 
till then been an only child in the house of my grandfather, 
that a quarrel between brothers was a very natural event. 

After being a year at Bath I returned first to Edin- 
burgh, and afterwards for a season to Sandy-Knowe; 
and thus the time whiled away till about my eighth year, 



Lady of the Lake 

when it was thought sea bathing might be of service 
to my lameness. 

For this purpose, still under my aunt's protection, I 
remained some weeks at Prestonpans — a circumstance not 
worth mentioning, excepting to record my juvenile inti- 
macy with an old military veteran, Dalgetty by name, who 
had pitched his tent in that little village, after all his 
campaigns, subsisting upon an ensign's half pay, though 
called by courtesy a captain. As this old gentleman, 
who had been in all the German wars, found very few 
to listen to his tales of military feats, he formed a sort 
of alliance with me, and I used invariably to attend him 
for the pleasure of hearing those communications. Some- 
times our conversation turned on the American war, 
which was then raging. It was about the time of Bur- 
goyne's unfortunate expedition, to which my Captain and 
I augured different conclusions. Somebody had shown 
me a map of North America, and, struck with the rugged 
appearance of the country and the quantity of lakes, I 
expressed some doubts on the subject of the General's 
arriving safely at the end of his journey, which were very 
indignantly refuted by the Captain. The news of the 
Saratoga disaster, while it gave me a little triumph, rather 
shook my intimacy with the veteran. 

Besides this veteran, I found another ally at Preston- 
pans in the person of George Constable, an old friend of 
my father's. He was the first person who told me about 
Falstaff and Hotspur, and other characters in Shakespeare. 
What idea I annexed to them I know not, but I must have 
annexed some, for I remember quite well being interested 
in the subject. Indeed, I rather suspect that children 
derive impulses of a powerful and important kind in hear- 
ing things which they cannot entirely comprehend; and, 
therefore, that to write down to children's understanding 
is a mistake : set them on the scent, and let them puz- 
zle it out. 



Lady of the Lake 

From Prestonpans I was transported back to my 
father's house in George's Square, which continued to be 
my most established place of residence until my marriage 
in 1797. I felt the change, from being a single indulged 
brat to becoming a member of a large family, very 
severely ; for, under the gentle government of my kind 
grandmother, who was meekness itself, and of my aunt, 
who, though of an higher temper, was exceedingly attached 
to me, I had acquired a degree of license which could 
not be permitted in a large family. I had sense enough, 
however, to bend my temper to my new circumstances ; 
but such was the agony which I internally experienced, 
that I have guarded against nothing more, in the educa- 
tion of my own family, than against their acquiring 
habits of self-willed caprice and domination. I found 
much consolation during this period of mortification, in 
the partiality of my mother. She joined to a light and 
happy temper of mind a strong turn to study poetry and 
works of imagination. 

My lameness and solitary habits had made me a toler- 
able reader, and my hours of leisure were usually spent 
in reading aloud to my mother Pope's translation of 
Homer, which, excepting a few traditionary ballads, and 
the songs in Allan Ramsay's Evergreen, was the first 
poetry which I perused. My mother had good natural 
taste and great feeling: she used to make me pause upon 
those passages which expressed generous and worthy 
sentiments, and, if she could not divert me from those 
which were descriptive of battle and tumult, she con- 
trived at least to divide my attention between them. My 
own enthusiasm, however, was chiefly awakened by the 
wonderful and the terrible — the common taste of chil- 
dren, but in which I have remained a child even unto this 
day. I got by heart, not as a task, but almost without 
intending it, the passages with which I was most pleased, 
and used to recite them aloud, both when alone and to 

13 



Lady of the Lake 

others — more willingly, however, in my hours of solitude, 
for I had observed some auditors smile, and I dreaded 
ridicule at that time of life more than I have ever 
done since. 

In 1778 I was sent to the second class of the Grammar 
School, or High School of Edinburgh, then taught by 
Mr. Luke Fraser, a good Latin scholar and a very worthy 
man. Though I had received, with my brothers, in pri- 
vate, lessons of Latin from Mr. James French, now a 
minister of the Kirk of Scotland, I was nevertheless rather 
behind the class in which I was placed both in years and 
in progress. This was a real disadvantage, and one to 
which a boy of lively temper and talents ought to be as 
little exposed as one who might be less expected to make 
up his leeway, as it is called. The situation has the 
unfortunate effect of reconciling a boy of the former 
character (which in a posthumous work I may claim 
for my own) to holding a subordinate station among his 
class fellows — to which he would otherwise affix disgrace. 
There is also, from the constitution of the High School, 
a certain danger not sufficiently attended to. The boys 
take precedence in their places, as they are called, accord- 
ing to their merit, and it required a long while, in general, 
before even a clever boy, if he falls behind the class, or 
is put into one for which he is not quite ready, can force 
his way to the situation which his abilities really entitle 
him to hold. But, in the meanwhile, he is necessarily led 
to be the associate and companion of those inferior spirits 
with whom he is placed; for the system of precedence, 
though it does not limit the general intercourse among 
the boys, has nevertheless the effect of throwing them into 
clubs and coteries, according to^ the vicinity of the seats 
they hold. A boy of good talents, therefore, placed even 
for a time among his inferiors, especially if they be also 
his elders, learns to participate in their pursuits and objects 
of ambition, which are usually very distinct from the acqui- 

14 



Lady of the Lake 

sition of learning; and it will be well if he does not also 
imitate them in that indifference which is contented with 
bustling over a lesson so as to avoid punishment, without 
affecting superiority or aiming at reward. It was prob- 
ably owing to this circumstance, that, although at a more 
advanced period of life I have enjoyed considerable 
facility in acquiring languages, I did not make any great 
figure at the High School ; or, at least, any exertions which 
I made were desultory and little to be depended on. 

Our class contained some very excellent scholars. 
As for myself, I glanced like a meteor from one end of the 
class to the other, and commonly disgusted my kind mas- 
ter as much by negligence and frivolity as I occasionally 
pleased him by flashes of intellect and talent. Among my 
companions my good nature and a flow of ready imagina- 
tion rendered me very popular. Boys are uncommonly 
just in their feelings, and at least equally generous. My 
lameness, and the efforts which I made to supply that 
disadvantage, by making up in address what I wanted in 
activity, engaged the latter principle in my favor; and 
in the winter play hours, when hard exercise was impos- 
sible, my tales used to assemble an admiring audience 
round Lucky Brown's fireside, and happy was he that 
could sit next to the inexhaustible narrator. I was also, 
though often negligent of my own task, always ready to 
assist my friends ; and hence I had a little party of stanch 
partisans and adherents, stout of hand knd heart, though 
somewhat dull of head — the very tools for raising a 
hero to eminence. So, on the whole, I made a brighter 
figure in the yards than in the class. 

After having been three years under Mr. Fraser, 
our class was, in the usual routine of the school, turned 
over to Dr. Adam, the Rector. It was from this respect- 
able man that I first learned the value of the knowledge 
I had hitherto considered only as a burdensome task. 
It was the fashion to remain two years at his class, where 



Lady of the Lake 

we read Caesar and Livy and Sallust, in prose; Virgil, 
Horace, and Terence, in verse. I had by this time mas- 
tered, in some degree, the difficulties of the language, and 
began to be sensible of its beauties. This was really 
gathering grapes from thistles ; nor shall I soon forget 
the swelling of my little pride when the Rector pronounced 
that, though many of my school-fellows understood the 
Latin better, Gualterus Scott was behind few in following 
and enjoying the author's meaning. Thus encouraged, I 
distinguished myself by some attempts at poetical versions 
from Horace and Virgil. Dr. Adam used to invite 
his scholars to such essays, but never made them tasks. 
I gained some distinction upon these occasions, and the 
Rector in future took much notice of me; and his judi- 
cious mixture of censure and praise went far to counter- 
balance my habits of indolence and inattention. I saw I 
was expected to do well, and I was piqued in honor to 
vindicate my master's favorable opinion. I climbed, 
therefore, to the first form ; and, though I never made a 
first-rate Latinist, my school-fellows, and what was of 
more consequence, I myself, considered that I had a char- 
acter for learning to maintain. 

From Dr. Adam's class I should, according to the usual 
routine, have proceeded immediately to college. But, 
fortunately, I was not yet to lose, by a total dismission 
from constraint, the acquaintance with the Latin which 
I had acquired. 'My health had become rather delicate 
from rapid growth, and my father was easily persuaded to 
allow me to spend half a year at Kelso with my kind 
aunt, Miss Janet Scott, whose inmate I again became. It 
is hardly worth mentioning that I had frequently visited 
her during our short vacations. 

In the meanwhile my acquaintance with English litera- 
ture was gradually extending itself. In the intervals of 
my school hours I had always perused with avidity such 
books of history or poetry or voyages and travels as 

i6 



Lady of the Lake 

chance presented to me — not forgetting the usual or 
rather ten times the usual, quantity of fairy tales, eastern 
stories, romances, etc. These studies were totally unregu- 
lated and undirected. My tutor thought it almost a sin to 
open a profane play or poem; and my mother, besides 
that she might be in some degree trammeled by the relig- 
ious scruples which he suggested, had no longer the 
opportunity to hear me read poetry as formerly. I 
found, however, in her dressing room (where I slept at 
one time) some odd volumes of Shakespeare ; nor can I 
easily forget the rapture with which I sate up in my shirt 
reading them by the light of a fire in her apartment, until 
the bustle of the family rising from supper warned me 
it was time to creep back to my bed, where I was supposed 
to have been safely deposited since nine o'clock. Chance, 
however, threw in my way a poetical preceptor. This 
was no other than the excellent and benevolent Dr. Black- 
lock, well known at that time as a literary character. 
I know not how I attracted his attention, and that of some 
of the young men who boarded in his family; but so it 
was that I became a frequent and favored guest. The 
kind old man opened to me the stores of his library, and 
through his recommendation I became intimate with Os- 
sian and Spenser. I was delighted with both, yet I think 
chiefly with the latter poet. The tawdry repetitions of the 
Ossianic phraseology disgusted me rather sooner than 
might have been expected from my age. But Spenser I 
could have read forever. Too young to trouble myself 
about the allegory, I considered all the knights and ladies 
and dragons and giants in their outward and exoteric sense, 
and God only knows how delighted I was to find myself 
in such society. As I had always a wonderful facility' 
in retaining in my memory whatever verses pleased me, 
the quantity of Spenser's stanzas which I could repeat 
was really marvelous. But this memory of mine was 
a very fickle ally, and has through my whole life acted 
2 17 



Lady of the Lake 

merely upon its own capricious motion, and might have 
enabled me to adopt old Beattie of Meikledale's answer, 
when complimented by a certain reverend divine on the 
strength of the same faculty : " No, sir," answered the old 
Borderer, " I have no command of my memory. It only 
retains what hits my fancy; and probably, sir, if you 
were to preach to me for two hours, I would not be able 
when you finished to remember a word you had been say- 
ing." My memory was precisely of the same kind ; it 
seldom failed to preserve most tenaciously a favorite 
passage of poetry, a play-house ditty, or, above all, a 
border-raid ballad ; but names, dates, and other technicali- 
ties of history escaped me in a most melancholy degree. 
The philosophy of history, a much more important sub- 
ject, was also a sealed book at this period of my life; but 
I gradually assembled much of what was striking and 
picturesque in historical narrative ; and when, in riper 
years, I attended more to the deduction of general prin- 
ciples, I was furnished with a powerful host of examples 
in illustration of them. I was, in short, like an ignorant 
gamester, who kept up a good hand until he knew how 
to play it. 

I left the High School, therefore, with a great quantity 
of general information, ill arranged, indeed, and collected 
without system, yet deeply impressed upon my mind, read- 
ily assorted by my power of connection and memory, and 
gilded, if I may be permitted to say so, by vivid and active 
imagination. If my studies were not under any direction 
at Edinburgh, in the country, it may be well imagined, 
they were less so. A respectable subscription library, 
a circulating library of ancient standing, and some private 
' bookshelves were open to my random perusal, and I 
waded into the stream like a blind man into a ford, without 
the power of searching my way, unless by groping for it. 
My appetite for books was as ample and indiscriminating 
as it was indefatigable, and I since have had too frequently 

i8 



Lady of the Lake 

reason to repent that few ever read so much, and to so 
little purpose. 

Among the valuable acquisitions I made about this time 
was an acquaintance with Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered. 
But, above all, I then first became acquainted with Bishop 
Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry. I remember well the 
spot where I read these volumes for the first time. It 
was beneath a huge platanus tree, in the ruins of what had 
been intended for an old-fashioned arbor in the garden 
I have mentioned. The summer day sped onward so 
fast, that, notwithstanding the sharp appetite of thirteen, 
I forgot the hour of dinner, was sought for with anxiety, 
and was still found entranced in my intellectual banquet. 
To read and to remember was in this instance the same 
thing, and henceforth I overwhelmed my school- fellows, 
and all who would hearken to me, with tragical recitations 
from the ballads of Bishop Percy. The first time, too, 
I could scrape a few shillings together, which were not 
common occurrences with me, I bought unto myself a 
copy of these beloved volumes ; nor do I believe I ever 
read a book half so frequently or with half the enthusi- 
asm. About this period also I became acquainted with 
the works of Richardson, and those of Mackenzie, with 
Fielding, Smollett, and some others of our best novelists. 

To this period also I can trace distinctly the awaking 
of that delightful feeling for the beauties of natural objects 
which has never since deserted me. The neighborhood^ 
of Kelso, the most beautiful, if not the most romantic vil- 
lage in Scotland, is eminently calculated to awaken 
these ideas. 

From this time the love of natural beauty, more espe- 
cially when combined with ancient ruins, or remains of 
our fathers' piety or splendor, became with me an in- 
satiable passion, which, if circumstances had permitted, 
I would willingly have gratified by traveling over half 
the globe. 

19 



Lady of the Lake 

If, however, it should ever fall to the lot of youth to 
peruse these pages — let such a reader remember that it is 
with the deepest regret that I recollect in my manhood 
the opportunities of learning which I neglected in my 
youth ; that through every part of my literary career I 
have felt pinched and hampered by my own ignorance; 
and that I would at this moment give half the reputation 
I have had the good fortune to acquire, if by doing so 
I could rest the remaining part upon a sound foundation 
of learning and science. 



20 



OUTLINE OF HIS LATER LIFE 

1785. Entered Edinburgh University. See Lockhart's 
" Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott," for an account of 
his college experiences, extensive reading and jaunts. 

1792. Admitted to the Scottish Bar. See Lockhart for ex- 
periences in his father's office, visits to his father's clients in the 
Highlands, where he secured material for " The Lady of the 
Lake," and reading of fiction. 

1797. Married Mademoiselle Charpentier. See Lockhart for 
an account of a prior romance, its effect on him, and a picture 
of his domestic life. 

1802-1803. Border Minstrelsy. Scott's first w^ork, the result 
of reading German romantic lore. See Lockhart. 

1805. The Lay of the Last MinstreL See Lockhart. 

1808. Marmion. See Lockhart. 

1810. The Lady of the Lake. See Lockhart. 

181 1. Bought Abbotsford. See Lockhart for description of 
this estate and circumstances of purchase. 

1814. Waverh^y. See Lockhart for account of Scott's enter- 
ing the field of prose fiction, and his habits of work. 

1815. Guy Manncring. See Lockhart. 

1816. The Antiquary. Old Mortality. See Lockhart. 

1817. Harold the Dauntless. See Lockhart. 

1818. Rob Roy. The Heart of Midlothian. See Lockhart. 

1819. The Bride of Lammermoor. See Lockhart. 

1820. Ivanhoe. The Monastery. The Abbot. See Lockhart. 

1821. Kenihvorth. See Lockhart. 

1822. The Pirate. The Fortunes of Nigel. See Lockhart. 

1823. Qucntin Durzvard. See Lockhart. 

1824. Redgauntlet. See Lockhart. 

1825. Failure of Ballantyne and Company, Publishers. See 
Lockhart for account of Scott's entering intO' business with this 
firm, their subsequent failure, and Scott's labors to clear himself 
of debt. 

1826. Woodstock. See Lockhart. 

1827. Life of Napoleon Bonaparte. See Lockhart. 
1828-1831. Tales of a Grandfather, four series. See Lockhart. 
1832. Died at Abbotsford, September 21. See Lockhart for 

account of his gradual failure in health, struggles to preserve it, 
travel to Italy, last days, and for his personal tribute to Scott's 
life and character. 

In addition to the extensive and intimate record of Scott's 
life by his son-in-law, Lockhart, the Life of Sir Walter Scott, 
in the English Men of Letter Series, by Richard H. Hutton, is 
interesting and accurate. The above outline does not contain 
reference to all his activities and literary works, only the most 
commonly known. Students should supplement this. Also 
Scott's own Journal (1825-1832) should be read. 

For a brief sketch of Scott's life, see Miller's English Litera- 
ture, Chapter xxix, pp. 346-357, published by J. B. Lippincott Co. 

21 



SCOTT'S INTRODUCTION TO 
"THE LADY OF THE LAKE" 

After the success of Mannion,! felt inclined to exclaim 
with Ulysses in the Odysseys: 

One venturous game my hand has won to-day, 
Another, gallants, yet remains to play, xxii, 5. 

The ancient manners, the habits, and customs of the 
aboriginal race by whom the Highlands of Scotland were 
inhabited, had always appeared to me peculiarly adapted 
to poetry. The change in their manners, too, had taken 
place almost within my own time, or at least I had always 
thought the old Scottish Gael highly adapted for poetical 
composition. The feuds and political dissensions which, 
half a century earlier, would have rendered the richer and 
wealthier part of the kingdom indisposed to countenance 
a poem, the scene of which was laid in the Highlands, 
were now sunk in the generous compassion w^hich the 
English more than any other nation feel for the misfor- 
tunes of an honorable foe. The poems of Ossian had, by 
their popularity, sufficiently shown that, if writings on 
Highland subjects were qualified to interest the readers, 
mere national prejudices were, in the present-day, very 
unlikely to interfere with their success. 

I had also read a great deal, seen much, and heard 
more, of that romantic country where I was in the habit 
of spending some time every autumn ;_and the scenery of 
Loch Katrine was connected with the recollection of many 
a dear friend and merry expedition of former days. This 
poem, the action of which lay among scenes so beautiful 
and so deeply imprinted on my recollections, was a labor of 
love, and it was no less so to recall the manners and 
incidents introduced. The frequent custom of James IV, 
and particularly of James V, to walk through the kingdom 
in disguise, afforded me the hint of an incident which 

22 



Lady of the Lake 

never fails to be interesting if managed with the slightest 
address or dexterity. 

I may now confess, however, that the employment, 
though attended with great pleasure, was not without its 
doubts and anxieties. A lady, to whom I was nearly 
related, and with whom I lived, during her whole life, 
on the most brotherly terms of affection, was residing 
with me at the time when the work was in progress, and 
used to ask me what I could possibly do to rise so early 
in the morning (that happening to be the most convenient 
to me for composition). At last I told her the subject 
of my meditations ; and I can never forget the anxiety 
and affection expressed in her reply. " Do not be so 
rash," she said, " my dearest cousin. You are already 
popular — more so, perhaps, than you yourself will believe, 
or than even I, or other partial friends, can fairly allow 
to your merit. You stand high — do not rashly attempt 
to climb higher, and incur the risk of a fall ; for, depend 
upon it, a favorite will not be permitted even to stumble 
with impunity." I replied to this affectionate expostula- 
tion in the words of Montrose" 

" He either fears his fate too much, 
Or his deserts are small, 
Who dares not put it to the touch 
To gain or lose it all." 

" If I fail," T said, for the dialogue is strong in my 
recollection, " it is a sign that I ought never to have 
succeeded, and I will write prose for life; you shall see 
no change in my temper, nor will I eat a single meal the 
worse. But if I succeed, 

" ' Up with the bonnie blue bonnet, 
The dirk, and the feather, and a' ! '" 

Afterwards I showed my affectionate and anxious 
critic the first canto of the poem, which reconciled her 
to my imprudence. Nevertheless, though I answered thus 

23 



Lady of the Lake 

confidently, with the obstinacy often said to be proper to 
those who bear my surname, I acknowledge that my con- 
fidence was considerably shaken by the warning of her 
excellent taste and unbiased friendship. Nor was I much 
comforted by her retraction of the unfavorable judgment, 
when I recollected how likely a natural partiality was to 
efifect that change of opinion. In such cases affection 
rises like a light on the canvas, improves any favorable 
tints which it formerly exhibited, and throws its defects 
into the shade. 

I remember that about the same time a friend started 
in to " heeze up my hope," like the " sportsman with his 
cutty gun," in the old song. He was bred a farmer, but 
a man of powerful understanding, natural good taste, and 
warm poetical feeling, perfectly competent to Supply the 
wants of an imperfect or irregular education. He was a 
passionate admirer of field sports, which we often pur- 
sued together. 

As this friend happened to dine with me at Ashestiel 
one day, I took the opportunity of reading to him the 
first canto of The Lady of the Lake, in order to ascertain 
the effect the poem was likely to produce upon a person 
who was but too favorable a representative of readers 
at large. It is, of course, to be supposed that I determined 
rather to guide my opinion by what my friend might 
appear to feel,- than by what he might think fit to say. 
His reception of my recitation, or prelection, was rather 
singular. He placed his hand across his brow, and lis- 
tened with great attention, through the whole account of 
the stag hunt, till the dogs threw themselves into the lake 
to follow their master, who embarks with Ellen Douglas. 
He then started up with a sudden exclamation, struck his 
hand on the table, and declared, in a voice of censure 
calculated for the occasion, that the dogs must have been 
totally ruined by being permitted to take the water after 
such a severe chase. I own I was much encouraged by 

24 



Lady of the Lake 

the species of reverie which had possessed so zealous a 
follower of the sports of the ancient Nimrod, who had 
been completely surprised out of all doubts of the reality 
of the tale. Another of his remarks gave me less pleasure. 
He detected the identity of the king with the wandering 
knight, Fitz-James, when he winds his bugle to summon 
his attendants . . . 

This discovery, as Mr. Pepys says of the rent in his 
camlet cloak, was but a trifle, yet it troubled me ; and I 
was at a good deal of pains to efface any remarks by which 
I thought my secret could be traced before the conclusion, 
when I relied on it with the same hope of producing 
effect, with which the Irish postboy is said to reserve a 
" trot for the avenue." 

I took uncommon pains to verify the accuracy of the 
local circumstances of this story. I recollect, in particu- 
lar that, to ascertain whether I was telling a probable tale 
I went into Perthshire, to see whether King James could 
actually have ridden from the Banks to Loch Vennachar to 
Stirling Castle within the time supposed in the poem, 
and had the pleasure to satisfy myself that it was 
quite practicable. 

After a considerable delay The Lady of the Lake 
appeared in June, 1810; and its success was certainly so 
extraordinary as to induce me for the moment to conclude 
that I had at last fixed a nail in the proverbially inconstant 
wheel of Fortune, whose stability in behalf of an individual 
who had so boldly courted her favors for three successive 
times had not as yet been shaken. I had attained, perhaps, 
that degree of reputation at which prudence, or certainly 
timidity, would have made a halt and discontinued efforts 
by which I was far more likely to diminish my fame than 
to increase it. But, as the celebrated John Wilkes is 
said to have explained to his late Majesty, that he himself, 
amid his full tide of popularity, was never a Wilkite, 
so I can, with honest truth, exculpate myself from having 



Lady of the Lake 

been at any time a partisan of my own poetry, even when 
it was in the highest fashion with the milhon. It must 
not be supposed that I was either so ungrateful or so 
superabundantly candid as to despise or scorn the value 
of those whose voice had elevated me so much higher than 
my own opinion told me I deserved. I felt, on the con- 
trary, the more grateful to the public, as receiving that 
from partiality to me, which I could not have claimed 
from merit; and I endeavored to deserve the partiality 
by continuing such exertions as I was capable of for 
their amusement. 

It may be that I did not, in this continued course of 
scribbling, consult either the interest of the public or my 
own. But the former had effectual means of defending 
themselves, and could, by their coldness, sufficiently check 
any approach to intrusion; and for myself, I had now 
for several years dedicated my hours so much to literary 
labor that I should have felt difficulty in employing myself 
otherwise ; and so, like Dogberry, I generously bestowed 
all my tediousness on the public, comforting myself with 
the reflection that, if posterity should think me undeserv- 
ing of the favor with which I was regarded by my con- 
temporaries, " they could not but say I had the crown," 
and had enjoyed for a time that popularity which is so 
much coveted. 

I conceived, however, that I held the distinguished 
situation I had obtained, however unworthily, rather like 
the champion of pugilism, on the condition of being always 
ready to show proofs of my skill, than in the manner of 
the champion of chivalry, who performs his duties only 
on rare and solemn occasions. I was in any case conscious 
that I could not long hold a situation which the caprice 
rather than the judgment of the public had bestowed 
upon me, and preferred being deprived of my precedence 
by some more worthy rival, to sinking into contempt for 
my indolence, and losing my reputation by what Scottish 

26 



Lady of the Lake 

lawyers call the negative prescripiion. Accordingly, those 
who choose to look at the Introduction to Rokchy will be 
able to trace the steps by which I declined as a poet to 
figure as a novelist ; as the ballad says, " Queen Eleanor 
sunk at Charing Cross to rise again at Queenhithe." 

It only remains for me to say that, during my short 
preeminence of popularity, I faithfully observed the rules 
of moderation which I had resolved to follow before I 
began my course as a man of letters. If a man is deter- 
mined to make a noise in the world, he is sure to encounter 
abuse and ridicule, as he who gallops furiously through a 
village must reckon on being followed by the curs in full 
cry. Experienced persons know that, in stretching to 
flog the latter, the rider is very apt to catch a bad fall ; 
nor is an attempt to chastise a malignant critic attended 
with less danger to the author. On this principle, I let 
parody, burlesque, and sqtiibs find their own level ; and 
while the latter hissed most fiercely, I was cautious never 
to catch them up, as schoolboys do, to throw them back 
against the naughty boy who fired them off, wisely remem- 
bering that they are in such cases apt to explode in the 
handling. Let me add that my reign (since Byron has so 
called it) was marked by some instances of good nature 
as well as patience. I never refused a literary person of 
merit such services in smoothing his way to the public 
as were in my power ; and I had the advantage — rather 
an uncommon one with our irritable race — to enjoy favor 
without incurring permanent ill-will, so far as is known to 
me, among any of my contemporaries. — Abbotsford, 
April, 1830. 

HOW TO DRAMATIZE THE POEM 

Any teaching and study of " The Lady of the Lake " should 
be a dramatization of the poem. That is to say, the real values 
of the poem will never be understood and enjoyed by a mere 
text-book analysis of the lines. Enough analysis and word study 
should be employed to secure comprehension of the page, but real 
teaching and study lies in utilizing proper means to make the 

27 



Lady of the Lake 



characters and scenes relive in the minds and hearts of the pupils. 
Enough notes are provided to make needed facts accessible. 
Much is left to the enterprising pupil. The questions on each 
Canto are intended to arouse thought rather than to catechize. 
Ihe Introduction provides enough information about Scott to 
stimulate pupils to read more. The best sources of information 
are suggested. Moreover, the account furnished is given in 
Scott's own words. It seems like an impertinence to try to do 
otherwise. The rest is left to the personality, scholarship, and 
enterprise of the teacher, who, especially in English teaching, 
is always the bigger factor. 

In addition to the authorities already referred to, Lockhart, 
Hutton, and Scott's own "Journal," the teacher should encourage 
pupils to supplement the study of the poem with other readings 
from Scott's works, especially " Marmion," " Ivanhoe," " Quen- 
tin Durward," and " Rob Roy." Jane Porter's " Scottish Chiefs " 
is also worth reading. In " The Tales of a Grandfather," Chap- 
ters Seven to Twelve throw light on the characters of Wallace 
and Bruce. Chapter Ten gives an account of the strife between 
England and Scotland. Chapters Twenty-six to Twenty-eight 
describe the character of Douglas and the reign of James V, the 
hero of the poem, as well as the character and customs of the 
Highlanders and Borderers. Lockhart's " Life," of course, is 
the great authority, and its fascinating pages read like romance. 
Scott's childhood is treated in Vol. I, chapter ii ; his pets and 
rambles in Vol. II. chapter xiv ; his personal traits in Vol. II, 
chapters xv and xvii, and in Vol. VI, chapter lix ; his experiences 
at Abbotsford in Vol. V, chapter xx, and in Vol. VI, chapter i; 
and his own comments on " The Lady of the Lake " in Vol. Ill, 
chapter xx, and in Vol. VI, chapter liii. 

An enlivening study of the text, free from pedantry, is not 
enough. The wise teacher will read it aloud, simply, sincerely, 
free from the tricks of elocution. And she will teach her pupils 
tO' read it aloud in the same fashion. She will hold the printed 
page " up to the ears " of her pupils, where it belongs. Literature 
is really a misnomer. The age of criticism did the bad business 
of locking up life in books and calling it literature (Itteni). In 
the teaching of English to-day, nothing is more needed than 
teachers of imagination and power, who will loose the spirits of 
literature from the printed page and thus free the spirits of 
young people. 

For example, that teacher who has freed the spirit of 
" The Lady of the Lake " from the printed page by vitalizing 
study and by oral reading wil4 also make the poem live by con- 
ducting the pupils in imagination from Edinburgh to Glasgow 
through the Trosachs. She is doubly fortunate if she has herself 
taken that trip. With maps, Baedekers, postcards, sprigs of 
heather and lavender, pieces of Scotch plaid and other memen- 
toes, she can really create the scenes and people in " The Lady 
of the Lake." Her pupils will set out with her on top of the 



Lady of the Lake 

lumbering coaches that connect the railway stations with steam- 
boat landings. They will smell the sweet odors of Scottish 
foliage, feel the ever-present Scotch mist om their faces, and 
watch the morning fog creep up in the valleys, hear the rush of 
torrents in the glens, and catch the glint of sunlight from moun- 
tain peaks as they respond to the stirring breezes from the 
upper decks of the lake steamers. " The steep, steep sides of 
Loch Lomond " impress their rugged beauty. The emerald charm 
of Ellen's Isle takes on romantic tinge, and the winding paths 
on wooded hills are charged with the echoes of hurrying hoof 
beats of horse and deer, and the mellow tones of faraway bugles. 
With Scott himself as guide — genial, inspiring Scott — the world 
of romance, chivalry, and beauty of the life of " hall and bower " 
may be lived in imagination and woven into the texture of our 
prosaic modern life. 

The best way to teach " The Lady of the Lake," however, 
is to make a play of it, cast and stage it, and give it public pro- 
duction. It is eminently dramatic, abounding in strong scenes, 
and rich scenic effects. The verse is fluent and musical, the 
characters worthy of portrayal, the costumes picturesque, and 
the action easy. Moreover, there is opportunity to employ music 
for the songs and dances and to accompany the action. The 
following outline and suggestions, adapted from actual pro- 
duction, may be helpful. 

The Characters 

Lord James of Douglas, father to Ellen — a political exile. 

James Fitz-James, Knight of Snowdoun. Later, James Stuart, 
King of Scotland. 

Roderick Dhu, an outlawed chieftain — Ellen's lover. 

Allan-Bane, harper to the Douglas. 

Brian, a hermit. 

Malcolm Graeme, a ward of the King — Ellen's lover. 

Malise, Murdock, Norman, henchmen to Roderick. 

Herbert, Luffness, De Vaux, Herries, squires to James Fitz- 
James. 

John de Brent. 

Captain Lewis. 

Bertram. 

Lady Margaret, mother to Roderick. 

Blanche of Devan, a maniac. 

Ellen Douglas, cousin to Roderick. 

Vassals, Soldiers, Clansmen, Maids, Knights, and Ladies. 

(If necessary, more than one character may be taken by the 
same person.) 

Scene 
Vicinity of Loch Katrine, Western Highlands of Perthshire, 
Scotland. 

29 



Lady of the Lake 

Time 
1528-1542. Reign of James V, father of Mary, Queen of Scots. 
The Time of Action is six days. The Time of Play is 
two hours. 

Settings, Properties, Costumes 

Act I. Scene i. The Island. Wood scene, with lake, half visible 
cottage, rustic seat. Hunter: travelling costume of the king. 
Ellen and Margaret: Scottish women's costumes. Scene 2. 
Living Room, the Lodge. Table, rustic chairs, swords, ant- 
lers, pikes, net, etc., on walls. The costumes of the Douglas, 
Malcolm, and Roderick should be distinguishing Scottish 
dress. Allan-Bane should have a harp, wig, and beard. 

Act II. Wood Scene. Mossy bank, kettle with tripod over fire. 
Costumes the same. 

Act III. Scene i. Same as Act II., without kettle, etc. Scene 2. 
Guard Room, Castle. Table, benches, swords, shields, etc., 
lying about ; mugs on table. Costumes of soldiers of dif- 
ferent nations. Ellen with shawl. Scene 3. Ellen's Apart- 
ment. Simple room and furniture down stage. Conventional 
drop for rear wall, raised to disclose King's Presence Room. 
Throne, dais, rugs, palms, hangings, cushions, screens. 
Knights and Ladies in conventional court costume of 
the period. 

The action of Act I, Scene i, may take place in the early 
evening on the Island, but the opening passages between James 
and Ellen may seem to occur on the mainland. The play may 
open disclosing the Hunter pacing back and forth, uttering the 
lines of par. ix. Canto I. He looks about, then speaks the lines 
of pars. XV and xvi. He winds his horn. Ellen enters and we have 
dialogue of pars, xx-xxv. Of course, in every case where con- 
versation is paraphrased or implied, the teacher or ingenious pupils 
will have to create the actual dialogue. James and Ellen may exit 
to reappear on the opposite side of the stage, as if they had 
crossed in the boat. The conversation may be renewed v/ith the 
line of Ellen in par. xxvi. The action may continue up to 
par. xxxiii, including the entrance of Lady Margaret, the serving 
of the evening meal, the clearing of the table, and the retiring 
of the ladies. The episode of the sword should, of course, be 
included, as well as the song of Ellen, ''Soldier, rest! thy 
warfare o'er." Scene i may end with the soliloquy of James in 
par. xxxv, at the end of which James enters the cottage to retire. 
The action of Scene 2 should take place inside the living room 
of the Lodge, the next morning. Allan-Bane is discovered idly 
strumming his harp. Ellen enters, looking behind as if watching 
the departure of James. The dialogue should begin with her 
words, " Wake, Allan-Bane," in par. vi. Canto II. It ends with 
par. XV, when the sounds of " Hail to the Chief " are heard. 

30 



Lady of the Lake 



They rise, and Lady Margaret enters with the lines, " Come, 
loiterer, come ! " Ellen exits to greet her father. The sounds 
of the clansmen's song grow louder as Ellen, the Douglas, and 
Malcolm enter. Douglas begins the conversation with the lines 
in par. xxiii, Ellen taking it up in par. xxvi. Roderick enters on 
hnes in par. xxviii, and the conversation and action, with the 
struggle of Malcolm and Roderick, continues to the end of 
the Canto. 

The action of Act II takes place on the Heights of Bcnvenue, 
in the vicinity of Roderick's camp and the Goblin Cave, hiding 
place of Ellen and the Douglas, afternoon. Roderick is discov- 
ered pacing anxiously abo'ut with Malise. Brian, the hermit, is 
preparing nearby the wooden cross. After some ceremony, 
Brian raises the cross aloft on the words of par. ix. The action 
and dialogue continues to par. xiii. As he departs, a chorus off 
stage may sing the Coronach, " He is gone on the mountain." 
After the exit of Brian, Roderick paces back and forth, listening 
to the song of Ellen in the distance, " Ave Maria ! " Roderick 
utters the words in par. xxx, and exits as Norman enters, mur- 
muring the words in soliloquy of par. i. Canto IV. The dialogue 
of these two, Malise and Norman, including the entrance of 
Brian and Roderick, continues to the end of par. viii. As they 
exeunt, Ellen and Allan-Bane enter. We have their conversation 
up to the end of par. xi, when James enters. The action and 
dialogue continue to the end of par. xix. Ellen and Allan 
exeunt, and Murdock enters as a cry is heard. The action then 
resumes, beginning with par. xx, and continues with the entrance 
of Blanche, her song, the treachery of Murdock, the fight be- 
tween James and Murdock, death of Blanche, and oath of 
James. At the end of his speech in par. xxviii, James lies down 
to sleep, but is disturbed by the Sentinel (Roderick in disguise). 
Their dialogue continues until the end of the Canto, and they 
exeunt, as if to Roderick's camp. 

Act III, Scene i, takes place at Coilant ogle's Ford, midday. 
The Sentinel begins the conversation with James with the ques- 
tion at the end of par. iii. The action and dialogue now continue 
between them up to and including the fight as far as par. xvii. 
At the end of the struggle, James utters the lines of par. xvii and 
summons Herbert, Lnffness, De Vaux, and Herries. On direc- 
tion they bear out the body of Roderick, and James is about to 
follow, when he sees the form of Douglas and utters the lines of 
par. xix, and exits to avoid seeing him. Douglas enters with 
the soliloquy of par. xx. He exits, and the scene ends. Scene 2 
takes place in the guard room, Canto VI. Soldiers are lounging 
about and John de Brent is talking about the games in which 
Douglas vexed the King with his skill and was taken captive. 
News of Roderick's uprising are told. They are all joining in 
a song on John's lines in par. iv, when Bertram enters with Ellen 
and Allan-Bane. The conversation continues until par. xi, when 

31 



Lady of the Lake 

Lewis takes Ellen away, and John goes at the end of par. xi to 
bring Roderick. We have the conversation between Roderick and 
Allan up to the middle of par. xiv, where Roderick asks Allan to 
chant the battle scene. Allan starts to do so, when Roderick, 
endeavoring to rise, falls over dead. The stage may be darkened 
as Allan chants the lament, par. xxii. Scene 3 shows Ellen in her 
apartment sitting in dejection, listening to the song of Malcolm, 
par. xxiv. James enters, and we have their conversation of par. 
XXV. Curtains part to show the Presence Room. James leads her 
down the rows of courtiers. She then learns that James is King of 
Scotland, falls at his feet, and is raised by James, who speaks the 
lines of pars, xxvii, xxviii, and xxix. She embraces her father, 
and the play ends with James giving Malcolm to Ellen with the 
chain of gold. 



32 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE 

ARGUMENT 

The scene of the following Poem is laid chiefly in 
the vicinity of Loch Katrine, in the Western High- 
lands of Perthshire. The time of Action includes Six 
Days, and the transactions of each Day occupy a Canto. 

CANTO FIRST 

THE CHASE 

Harp of the North ! that mouldering long hast hung 

On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring, 
And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, 

Till envious ivy did around thee cling, 
Muffling with verdant ringlet every string, — 5 

O Minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep? 
Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring, 

Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep. 
Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep? 

Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon, lo 

Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd, 
When lay of hopeless love, or glory won. 

Aroused the fearful or subdued the proud. 
At each according pause was heard aloud 

Thine ardent symphony sublime and high ! 15 

Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bowed ; 

For still the burden of thy minstrelsy 
Was Knighthood's dauntless deed and Beauty's match- 
less eye. 

O, wake once more ! how rude soe'er the hand 

That ventures o'er thy magic maze to stray ; 20 

O, wake once more ! though scarce my skill command 
Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay: 
3 33 



Lady of the Lake 

Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away, 

And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, 
Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, 25 

The wizard note has not been touched in vain. 
Then silent be no more 1 Enchantress, wake again. 



The stag at eve had drunk his fill, 

Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, 

And deep his midnight lair had made 30 

In lone Glenartney's hazel shade ; 

But when the sun his beacon red 

Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head, 

The deep-mouthed bloodhound's heavy bay 

Resounded up the rocky way, 35 

And faint, from farther distance borne, 

Were heard the clanging hoof and horn. 

II 

As Chief, who hears his warder call, 
" To arms ! the f oemen storm the wall," 
The antlered monarch of the waste 40 

Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. 
But, ere his fleet career he took, 
The dewdrops from his flanks he shook ; 
Like crested leader proud and high 
Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky; 45 

A moment gazed adown the dale, 
A moment snuffed the tainted gale, 
A moment listened to the cry, 
That thickened as the chase drew nigh ; 
Then, as the headmost foes appeared, 50 

With one brave bound the copse he cleared. 
And, stretching forward free and far, 
Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. 
34 



Lady of the Lake 

III 

Yelled on the view the opening pack ; 

Rock, glen, and cavern paid them back ; 55 

To many a mingled sound at once 

The awakened mountain gave response. 

A hundred dogs bayed deep and strong, 

Clattered a hundred steeds along. 

Their peal the merry horns rung out, 60 

A hundred voices joined the shout; 

With hark and whoop and wild halloo, 

No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. 

Far from the tumult fled the roe, 

Close in her covert cowered the doe, 65 

The falcon, from her cairn on high, 

Cast on the rout a wandering eye, 

Till far beyond her piercing ken 

The hurricane had swept the glen. 

Faint, and more faint, its failing din 70 

Returned from cavern, cliff, and linn, 

And silence settled, wide and still, 

On the lone wood and mighty hill. 



IV 

Less loud the sounds of sylvan war 
Disturbed the heights of Uam-Var, 75 

And roused the cavern where, 't is told, 
A giant made his den of old ; 
For, ere that steep ascent was won. 
High in his pathway hung the sun. 
And many a gallant, stayed perforce, 80 

Was fain to breathe his faltering horse, 
And of the trackers of the deer 
Scarce half the lessening pack was near; 
So shrewdly on the mountain-side 
Had the bold burst their mettle tried. 85 

35 



Lady of the Lake 



The noble stag was pausing now 

Upon the mountain's southern brow, 

Where broad extended, far beneath, 

The varied realms of fair Menteith. 

With anxious eye he wandered o'er 90 

Mountain and meadow, moss and moor, 

And pondered refuge from his toil, 

By far Lochard or Aberfoyle. 

But nearer was the copsewood gray 

That waved and wept on Loch Achray, 95 

And mingled with the pine-trees blue 

On the bold cliffs of Benvenue. 

Fresh vigor with the hope returned. 

With flying foot the heath he spurned, 

Held westward with unwearied race, 100 

And left behind the panting chase. 

VI 

'T were long to tell what steeds gave o'er. 

As swept the hunt through Cambusmore ; 

What reins were tightened in despair. 

When rose Benledi's ridge in air ; 105 

Who flagged upon Bochastle's heath, 

Who shunned to stem the flooded Teith, — 

For twice that day, irom shore to shore. 

The gallant stag swam stoutly o'er. 

Few were the stragglers, following far, 1 10 

That reached the lake of Vennachar ; 

And when the Brigg of Turk was won. 

The headmost horseman rode alone. 

VII 

Alone, but with unbated zeal, 

That horseman plied the scourge and steel ; 115 

For jaded now, and spent with toil, 
36 



Lady of the Lake 

Embossed with foam, and dark with soil, 

While every gasp with sobs he drew, 

The laboring stag strained full in view. 

Two dogs of black Saint Hubert's breed, 120 

Unmatched for courage, breath, and speed. 

Fast on his flying traces came. 

And all but won that desperate game ; 

For, scarce a spear's length from his haunch. 

Vindictive toiled the bloodhounds stanch ; 125 

Nor nearer might the dogs attain. 

Nor farther might the quarry strain. 

Thus up the margin of the lake, 

Between the precipice and brake, 

O'er stock and rock their race they take. 130 

VIII 

The hunter marked that mountain high, 
The lone lake's western boundary, 
And deemed the stag must turn to bay, 
Where that huge rampart barred the way ; 
Already glorying in the prize, 135 

Measured his antlers with his eyes; 
For the death-wound and death-halloo 
Mustered his breath, his whinyard drew : — 
But thundering as he came prepared. 
With ready arm and weapon bared, 140 

The wily quarry shunned the shock. 
And turned him from the opposing rock; 
Then, dashing down a darksome glen, 
Soon lost to hound and Hunter's ken. 
In the deep Trosachs' wildest nook 145 

His solitary refuge took. 
There, while close couched the thicket shed 
Cold dews and wild flowers on his head, 
37 



Lady of the Lake 

He heard the baffled dogs in vain 

Rave through the hollow pass amain, 150 

Chiding the rocks that yelled again. 

IX 

Close on the hounds the Hunter came, 

To cheer them on the vanished game ; 

But, stumbling in the rugged dell, 

The gallant horse exhausted fell. 155 

The impatient rider strove in vain 

To rouse him with the spur and rein. 

For the good steed, his labors o'er, 

Stretched his stiff limbs, to rise no more ; 

Then, touched with pity and remorse, 160 

He sorrowed o'er the expiring horse. 

*' I little thought, when first thy rein 

I slacked upon the banks of Seine, 

That Highland eagle e'er should feed 

On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed ! 165 

Woe worth the chase, woe worth the day, 

That costs thy life, my gallant gray ! " 



Then through the dell his horn resounds, 
From vain pursuit to call the hounds. 
Back limped, with slow and crippled pace, 170 

The sulky leaders of the chase; 
Close to their master's side they pressed. 
With drooping tail and humbled crest ; 
But still the dingle's hollow throat 
Prolonged the swelling bugle-note. 175 

The owlets started from their dream, 
The eagles answered with their scream, 
Round and around the sounds were cast. 
Till echo- seemed an answering blast ; 
38 



Lady of the Lake 

And on the Hunter hied his way, 1 80 

To join some comrades of the day, 
Yet often paused, so strange the road, 
So wondrous were the scenes it showed. 



XI 

The western waves of ebbing day 
Rolled o'er the glen their level way; 185 

Each purple peak, each flinty spire. 
Was bathed in floods of living fire. 
But not a setting beam could glow 
Within the dark ravines below, 

Where twined the path in shadow hid, 190 

Round many a rocky pyramid, 
Shooting abruptly from the dell 
Its thunder-splintered pinnacle; 
Round many an insulated mass. 

The native bulwarks of the pass, 195 

Huge as the tower which builders vain 
Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain, 
The rocky summits, split and rent. 
Formed turret, dome, or battlement, 
Or seemed fantastically set 200 

With cupola or minaret, 
Wild crests as pagod ever decked. 
Or mosque of Eastern architect. 
Nor were these earth-born castles bare, 
Nor lacked they many a banner fair ; 205 

For, from their shivered brows displayed. 
Far o'er the unfathomable glade, 
All twinkling with the dewdrop sheen. 
The brier-rose fell in streamers green. 
And creeping shrubs of thousand dyes 210 

Waved in the west-wind's summer sighs. 
39 



Lady of the Lake 

XII 

Boon nature scattered, free and wild, 

Each plant or flower, the mountain's child. 

Here eglantine embalmed the air, 

Hawthorn and hazel mingled there; 215 

The primrose pale and violet flower 

Found in each clif t a narrow bower ; 

Foxglove and nightshade, side by side. 

Emblems of punishment and pride, 

Grouped their dark hues with every stain 220 

The weather-beaten crags retain. 

With boughs that quaked at every breath, 

Gray birch and aspen wept beneath; 

Aloft, the ash and warrior oak 

Cast anchor in the rifted rock ; 225 

And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung 

His shattered trunk, and frequent flung, 

Where seemed the cliflfs to meet on high, 

His boughs athwart the narrowed sky. 

Highest of all, where white peaks glanced, 230 

Where glistening streamers waved and danced, 

The wanderer's eye could barely view 

The summer heaven's delicious blue; 

So wondous wild the whole might seem 

The scenery of a fairy dream. 235 

XIII 

Onward amid the copse 'gan peep 
A narrow inlet, still and deep. 
Affording scarce such breadth of brim 
As served the wild duck's brood to swim. 
Lost for a space, through thickets veering, 240 

But broader when again appearing. 
Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face 
Could on the dark-blue mirror trace ; 
And farther as the Hunter strayed, 
40 



Lady of the Lake 

Still broader sweep its channels made. 245 

The shaggy mounds no longer stood, 

Emerging from entangled wood, 

But, wave-encircled, seemed to float, 

Like castle girdled with its moat ; 

Yet broader floods extending still 250 

Divide them from their parent hill, 

Till each, retiring, claims to be 

An islet in an inland sea. 



XIV 

And now, to issue from the glen. 
No pathway meets the wanderer's ken, 255 

Unless he climb with footing nice 
A far-projecting precipice. 
The broom's tough roots his ladder made, 
The hazel saplings lent their aid ; 
And thus an airy point he won, 260 

Where, gleaming with the setting sun, 
One burnished sheet of living gold. 
Loch Katrine lay beneath him rolled. 
In all her length far winding lay, 
With promontory, creek, and bay, 265 

And islands that, empurpled bright. 
Floated amid the livelier light, 
And mountains that like giants stand 
To sentinel enchanted land. 

High on the south, huge Benevue 270 

Down to the lake in masses threw 
Crags, knolls, and mounts, confusedly hurled. 
The fragments of an earlier world; 
A wildering forest feathered o'er 
His ruined sides and summit hoar, 275 

While on the north, through middle air, 
Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare. 
41 



Lady of the Lake 

XV 

From the steep promontory gazed 

The stranger, raptured and amazed, 

And, " What a scene was here," he cried, 280 

" For princely pomp or churchman's pride ! 

On this bold brow, a lordly tower ; 

In that soft vale, a lady's bower ; 

On yonder meadow far away, 

The turrets of a cloister gray ; 285 

How blithely might the bugle-horn 

Chide on the lake the lingering morn ! 

How sweet at eve the lover's lute. 

Chime when the groves were still and mute ! 

And when the midnight moon should lave 290 

Her forehead in the silver wave, 

How solemn on the ear would come 

The holy matins' distant hum. 

While the deep peal's commanding tone 

Should wake, in yonder islet lone, 295 

A sainted hermit from his cell, 

To drop a bead with every knell ! 

And bugle, lute, and bell, and all, 

Should each bewildered stranger call 

To friendly feast and lighted hall. 300 

XVI 

*' Blithe were it then to wander here ! 
But now — beshrew yon nimble deer — 
Like that same hermit's, thin and spare, 
The copse must give my evening fare ; 
Some mossy bank my couch must be, 305 

Some rustling oak my canopy. 
Yet pass we that ; the war and chase 
Give little choice of resting-place ; — 
A summer night in greenwood spent 
42 



Lady of the Lake 

Were but to-morrow's merriment: 310 

But hosts may in these wilds abound, 

Such as are better missed than found ; 

To meet with Highland plunderers here 

Were worse than loss of steed or deer. — 

I am alone; — my bugle-strain 315 

May call some straggler of the train ; 

Or, fall the worst that may betide, 

Ere now this falchion has been tried." 



XVII 

But scarce again his horn he wound. 
When lo ! forth starting at the sound, 320 

From underneath an aged oak 
That slanted from the islet rock, 
A damsel guider of its way, 
A little skiff shot to the bay, 

That round the promontory steep 325 

Led its deep line in graceful sweep. 
Eddying, in almost viewless wave, 
The weeping willow twig to lave. 
And kiss, with whispering sound and slow. 
The beach of pebbles bright as snow. 330 

The boat had touched this silver strand 
Just as the Hunter left his stand, 
And stood concealed amid the brake, 
To view this Lady of the Lake. 

The maiden paused, as if again 335 

She thought to catch the distant strain. 
With head upraised, and look intent, 
And eye and ear attentive bent, 
And locks flung back, and lips apart,, 
Like monument of Grecian art, 340 

In listening mood, she seemed to stand, 
The guardian Naiad of the strand. 
43 



Lady of the Lake 

XVIII 

And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace 

A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, 

Of finer form or lovelier face! 345 

What though the sun, with ardent frown, 

Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown, — 

The sportive toil, which, short and light, 

Had dyed her glowing hue so bright. 

Served too in hastier swell to show 350 

Short glimpses of a breast of snow : 

What though no rule of courtly grace 

To measured mood had trained her pace, — 

A foot more light, a step more true. 

Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew ; 355 

E'en the slight harebell raised its head, 

Elastic from her airy tread : 

What though upon her speech there hung 

The accents of the mountain tongue, — 

Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear, 360 

The listener held his breath to hear ! 



XIX 

A chieftain's daughter seemed the maid ; 
Her satin snood, her silken plaid, 
Her golden brooch, such birth betrayed. 
And seldom was a snood amid 365 

Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid. 
Whose glossy black to shame might bring 
The plumage of the raven's wing ; 
And seldom o'er a breast so fair 

Mantled a plaid with modest care, 370 

And never brooch the folds combined 
Above a heart more good and kind. 
Her kindness and her worth to spy, 
You need but gaze on Ellen's eye; 
44 




Lady of the Lake 

Not Katrine in her mirror blue 375 

Gives back the shaggy banks more true, 

Than every free-born glance confessed 

The guileless movements of her breast ; 

Whether joy danced in her dark eye, 

Or woe or pity claimed a sigh, 380 

Or filial love was glowing there, 

Or meek devotion poured a prayer, 

Or tale of injury called forth 

The indignant spirit of the North. 

One only passion unrevealed 

With maiden pride the maid concealed. 

Yet not less purely felt the flame ; — 

O, need I tell that passion's name? 

XX 

Impatient of the silent horn, 

Now on the gale her voice was borne : — 390 

*' Father ! " she cried ; the rocks around 
Loved to prolong the gentle sound. 
Awhile she paused, no answer came ; — 
'* Malcolm, was thine the blast? " the name 
Less resolutely uttered fell; 395 

The echoes could not catch the swell. 
" A stranger I," the Huntsman said. 
Advancing from the hazel shade. 
The maid, alarmed, with hasty oar 
Pushed her light shallop from the shore, 400 

And when a space was gained between, 
Closer she drew her bosom's screen ; — 
So forth the startled swan would swing, 
So turn to prune his ruffled wing. 
Then safe, though fluttered and amazed, 405 

She paused, and on the stranger gazed. 
Not his the form, nor his the eye, 
That youthful maidens wont to fly. 
45 



Lady of the Lake 

XXI 

On his bold visage middle age 

Had slightly pressed its signet sage, 410 

Yet had not quenched the open truth 

And fiery vehemence of youth; 

Forward and frolic glee was there, 

The will to do, the soul to dare, 

The sparkling glance, soon blown to fire, 415 

Of hasty love or headlong ire. 

His limbs were cast in manly mould 

For hardy sports or contest bold ; 

And though in peaceful garb arrayed, 

And weaponless except his blade, 420 

His stately mien as well implied 

A high-born heart, a martial pride, 

As if a baron's crest he wore, 

And sheathed in armor trod the shore. 

Slighting the petty need he showed, 425 

He told of his benighted road ; 

His ready speech flowed fair and free. 

In phrase of gentlest courtesy, 

Yet seemed that tone and gesture bland 

Less used to sue than to command. 430 

XXII 

Awhile the maid the stranger eyed. 
And, reassured, at length replied. 
That Highland halls were open still 
To wildered wanderers of the hill. 
" Nor think you unexpected come 435 

To yon lone isle, our desert home ; 
Before the heath had lost the dew. 
This morn, a couch was pulled for you ; 
On yonder mountain's purple head 
Have ptarmigan and heath-cock bled, 440 

And our broad nets have swept the mere, 
46 



Lady of the Lake 

To furnish forth your evening cheer." — 

" Now, by the rood, my lovely maid, 

Your courtesy has erred," he said ; 

" No right have I to claim, misplaced, 445 

The welcome of expected guest. 

A wanderer, here by fortune tost. 

My way, my friends, my courser lost, 

I ne'er before, believe me, fair, 

Have ever drawn your mountain air, 450 

Till on this lake's romantic strand 

I found a fay in fairy land ! " — 



XXIII 

" I well believe," the maid replied, 
As her light skiff approached the side, — 
" I well believe, that ne'er before 455 

Your foot has trod Loch Katrine's shore; 
But yet, as far as yesternight, 
Old Allan-bane foretold your plight, — 
A gray-haired sire, whose eye intent 
Was on the visioned future bent. 460 

He saw your steed, a dappled gray. 
Lie dead beneath the birchen way; 
Painted exact your form and mien. 
Your hunting-suit of Lincoln green. 
That tasselled horn so gayly gilt, 465 

That falchion's crooked blade and hilt, 
That cap with heron plumage trim. 
And yon two hounds so dark and grim. 
He bade that all should ready be 
To grace a guest of fair degree ; 470 

But light I held his prophecy. 
And deemed it was my father's horn 
Whose echoes o'er the lake were borne." 
47 



Lady of the Lake 

XXIV 

The stranger smiled : — " Since to your home 

A destined errant-knight I come, 

Announced by prophet sooth and old, 

Doomed, doubtless, for achievement bold, 

I'll lightly front each high emprise 

For one kind glance of those bright eyes. 

Permit me first the task to guide 

Your fairy frigate o'er the tide." 

The maid, with stnile suppressed and sly, 

The toil unwonted saw him try; 

For seldom, sure, if e'er before, 

His noble hand had grasped an oar : 

Yet with main strength his strokes he drew, 

And o'er the lake the shallop flew; 

With heads erect and whimpering cry, 

The hounds behind their passage ply. 

Nor frequent does the bright oar break 

The darkening mirror of the lake. 

Until the rocky isle they reach, 

And moor their shallop on the beach. 

XXV 

The stranger viewed the shore around ; 
'Twas all so close with copsewood bound, 
Nor track nor pathway might declare 
That human foot frequented there. 
Until the mountain maiden showed 
A clambering unsuspected road. 
That winded through the tangled screen, 
And opened on a narrow green. 
Where weeping birch and willow round 
With their long fibres swept the ground. 
Here, for retreat in dangerous hour. 
Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 
48 



Lady of the Lake 

XXVI 

It was a lodge of ample size, 

But strange of structure and device ; 

Of such materials as around 

The workman's hand had readiest found. 

Lopped of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared, 510 

And by the hatchet rudely squared, 

To give the walls their destined height, 

The sturdy oak and ash unite; 

While moss and clay and leaves combined 

To fence each crevice from the wind. 515 

The lighter pine-trees overhead 

Their slender length for rafters spread, 

And withered heath and rushes dry 

Supplied a russet canopy. 

Due westward, fronting to the green, 520 

A rural portico was seen, 

Aloft on native pillars borne, 

Of mountain fir with bark unshorn. 

Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine 

The ivy and Idsean vine, 525 

The clematis, the favored flower 

Which boasts the name of virgin-bower, 

And every hardy plant could bear 

Loch Katrine's keen and searching air. 

An instant in this porch she stayed, 530 

And gayly to the stranger said : 

" On heaven and on thy lady call, 

And enter the enchanted hall ! " 



XXVII 

" My hope, my heaven, my trust must be, 
My gentle guide, in following thee ! " — 535 

He crossed the threshold, — and a clang 
Of angry steel that instant rang. 
4 49 



Lady of the Lake 

To his bold brow his spirit rushed, 

But soon for vain alarm he blushed, 

When on the floor he saw displayed, 54^ 

Cause of the din, a naked blade 

Dropped from the sheath, that careless flung 

Upon a stag's huge antlers swung ; 

For all around, the walls to grace, 

Hung trophies of the fight or chase : 545 

A target there, a bugle here, 

A battle-ax, a hunting-spear, 

And broadsword, bows, and arrows store, 

With the tusked trophies of the boar. 

Here grins the wolf as when he died, 550 

And there the wildcat's brindled hide 

The frontlet of the elk adorns, 

Or mantles o'er the bison's horns ; 

Pennons and flags defaced and stained, 

That blackening streaks of blood retained, 555 

And deer-skins, dappled, dun, and white, 

With otter's fur and seal's unite, 

In rude and uncouth tapestry all, 

To garnish forth the sylvan hall. 

XXVIII 

The wondering stranger round him gazed, 560 

And next the fallen weapon raised : — 
Few were the arms whose sinewy strength 
Sufficed to stretch it forth at length. 
And as the brand he poised and swayed, 
" I never knew but one," he said, 565 

" Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield 
A blade like this in battle-field." 
She sighed ; then smiled and took the word : 
" You see the guardian champion's sword ; 
As light it trembles in his hand 570 

As in my grasp a hazel wand : 
50 



Lady of the Lake 

My sire's tall form might grace the part 

Of Ferragus or Ascabart, 

But in the absent giant's hold 

Are women now, and menials old.'* 575 

XXIX 

The mistress of the mansion came, 

Mature of age, a graceful dame, 

Whose easy step and stately port 

Had well become a princely court, 

To whom, though more than kindred knew, 580 

Young Ellen gave a mother's due. 

Meet welcome to her guest she made, 

And every courteous rite was paid 

That hospitality could claim, 

Though all unasked his birth and name. 585 

Such then the reverence to a guest, 

That fellest foe might join the feast, 

And from his deadliest foeman's door 

Unquestioned turn, the banquet o'er. 

At length his rank the stranger names, 590 

" The Knight of Snowdoun, Jafnes Fitz-James ; 

Lord of a barren heritage, 

Which his brave sires, from age to age. 

By their good swords had held with toil ; 

His sire had fallen in such turmoil, 595 

And he, God wot, was forced to stand 

Oft for his right with blade in hand. 

This morning with Lord Moray's train 

He chased a stalwart stag in vain, 

Outstripped his comrades, missed the deer, 600 

Lost his good steed, and wandered here." 

XXX 

Fain would the Knight in turn require 
The name and state of Tillen's sire. 
SI 



Lady of the Lake 

Well showed the elder lady's mien 

That courts and cities she had seen ; 605 

Ellen, though more her looks displayed 

The simple grace of sylvan maid, 

In speech and gesture form and face. 

Showed she was come of gentle race. 

'Twere strange in ruder rank to find 610 

Such looks, such manners, and such mind. 

Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave, 

Dame Margaret heard with silence grave ; 

Or Ellen, innocently gay. 

Turned all inquiry light away: — 615 

" Weird women we ! by dale and down 

We dwell, afar from tower and town. 

We stem the flood, we ride the blast, 

On wandering knights our spells we cast ; 

While viewless minstrels touch the string, 620 

'Tis thus our charmed rhymes we sing." 

She sung, and still a harp unseen 

Filled up the symphony between. 

XXXI 
SONG 

" Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, 

Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; 625 

Dream of battle fields no more, 

Days of danger, nights of waking. 
In our isle's enchanted hall. 

Hands unseen thy couch are strewing; 
Fairy strains of music fall, 630 

Every sense in slumber dewing. 
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, 
Dream of fighting fields no more; 
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking. 
Morn of toil, nor night of waking. 635 

52 



Lady of the Lake 

" No rude sound shall reach thine ear, 

Armor's clang or war-steed champing, 
Trump nor pibroch summon here 

Mustering clan or squadron tramping. 
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come 640 

At the daybreak from the fallow, 
And the bittern sound his drum, 

Booming from the sedgy shallow. 
Ruder sounds shall none be near, 
Guards nor warders challenge here, 645 

Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing. 
Shouting clans or squadrons stamping." 

XXXII 

She paused, — then, blushing, led the lay. 

To grace the stranger of the day. 

Her mellow notes awhile prolong 650 

The cadence of the flowing song. 

Till to her lips in measured frame 

The minstrel verse spontaneous came. 

SONG CONTINUED 

" Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; 

While our slumbrous spells assail ye, 655 

Dream not, with the rising sun, 

Bugles here shall sound reveille. 
Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; 

Sleep ! thy hounds are by thee lying; 
Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen 660 

How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; 
Think not of the rising sun, 
For at dawning to assail ye 

Here no bugles sound reveille." 665 

53 



Lady of the Lake 

XXXIII 

The hall was cleared, — the stranger's bed 

Was there of mountain heather spread, 

Where oft a hundred guests had lain, 

And dreamed their forest sports again. 

But vainly did the heath-flower shed 670 

Its moorland fragrance round his head ; 

Not Ellen's spell had lulled to rest 

The fever of his troubled breast. 

In broken dreams the image rose 

Of varied perils, pains, and woes : 675 

His steed now flounders in the brake, 

Now sinks his barge upon the lake ; 

Now, leader of a broken host, 

His standard falls, his honor's lost. 

Then, — from my couch may heavenly might 680 

Chase that worst phantom of the night ! — 

Again returned the scenes of youth, 

Of confident, undoubting truth ; 

Again his soul he interchanged 

With friends whose hearts were long estranged. 685 

They come, in dim procession led, 

The cold, the faithless, and the dead ; 

As warm each hand, each brow as gay, 

As if they parted yesterday. 

And doubt distracts him at the view, — 690 

Oh! were his senses false or true? 

Dreamed he of death or broken vow. 

Or is it all a vision now ? 



XXXIV 

At length, with Ellen in a grove 

He seemed to walk and speak of love ; 695 

She listened with a blush and sigh ; 

His suit was warm, his hopes were high. 

54 



Lady of the Lake 

He sought her yielded hand to clasp, 

And a cold gauntlet met his grasp : 

The phantom's sex was changed and gone; 700 

Upon its head a helmet shone ; 

Slowly enlarged to giant size, 

With darkened cheek and threatening eyes. 

The grisly visage, stern and hoar. 

To Ellen still a likeness bore. — 705 

He woke, and, panting with affright. 

Recalled the vision of the night. 

The hearth's decaying brands were red, 

And deep and dusky lustre shed. 

Half showing, half concealing, all 710 

The uncouth trophies of the hall. 

Mid those the stranger lixed his eye 

Where that huge falchion hung on high. 

And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng. 

Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along, 715 

Until, the giddy whirl to cure, 

He rose and sought the moonshine pure. 

XXXV 

The wild rose, eglantine, and broom 

Wasted around their rich perfume; 

The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm; 720 

The aspens slept beneath the calm ; 

The silver light, with quivering glance. 

Played on the water's still expanse, — 

Wild were the heart whose passion's sway 

Could rage beneath the sober ray ! 725 

He felt its calm, that warrior guest. 

While thus he communed with his breast: — 

" Why is it, at each turn I trace 

Some memory of that exiled race? 

Can I not mountain maiden spy, 730 

But she must bear the Douglas eye? 

55 



Lady of the Lake 

Can I not view a Highland brand, 

But it must match the Douglas hand? 

Can I not frame a fevered dream, 

But still the Douglas is the theme ? 735 

I'll dream no more, — my manly mind 

Not even in sleep is well resigned. 

My midnight orisons said o'er, 

I'll turn to rest, and dream no more." 

His midnight orisons he told, 74^ 

A prayer with every bead of gold, 

Consigned to heaven his cares and woes, 

And sunk in undisturbed repose. 

Until the heath-cock shrilly crew. 

And morning dawned on Benvenue. 745 



S^ 



CANTO SECOND 



THE ISLAND 



I 

At morn the black cock trims his jetty wing, 

'T is morning prompts the Hnnet's bhthest lay, 
All Nature's children feel the matin spring 

Of life reviving, with reviving day ; 
And while yon little bark glides down the bay, 5 

Wafting the stranger on his way again, 
Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel gray, 

And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain, 
Mixed with the sounding harp, O white-haired Allan- 
bane ! 

II 

SONG 

" Not faster yonder rowers' might 10 

Flings from their oars the spray. 
Not faster yonder rippling bright. 
That tracks the shallop's course in light, 

Melts fn the lake away, 
Than men from memory erase 15 

The benefits of former days ; 
Then, stranger, go ! good speed the while, 
Nor think again of the lonely isle. 

" High place to thee in royal court, 

High place in battled line, 20 

Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport! 
Where beauty sees the brave resort. 

The honored meed be thine ! 
True be thy sword, thy friend sincere, 

57 



Lady of the Lake 

Thy lady constant, kind, and dear, 25 

And lost in love's and friendship's smile 
Be memory of the lonely isle ! 

Ill 

SONG CONTINUED 

" But if beneath yon southern sky 

A plaided stranger roam, 
Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh, 30 

And sunken cheek and heavy eye, 

Pine for his Highland home; 
Then, warrior, then be thine to show 
The care that soothes a wanderer's woe; 
Remember then thy hap erewhile, 35 

A stranger in the lonely isle. 

" Or if on life's uncertain main 

Mishap shall mar thy sail ; 
If faithful, wise, and brave in vain, 
Woe, want, and exile thou sustain 40 

Beneath the fickle gale ; 
Waste not a sigh on fortune changed, 
On thankless courts, or friends estranged, 
But come where kindred worth shall smile, 
To greet thee in the lonely isle." 45 

IV 

As died the sounds upon the tide. 
The shallop reached the mainland side, 
And ere his onward way he took. 
The stranger cast a lingering look, 
Where easily his eye might reach 50 

The Harper on the islet beach. 
Reclined against a blighted tree, 
As wasted, gray, and worn as he. 
To minstrel meditation given, 
5& 



Lady of the Lake 

His reverend brow was raised to heaven, 55 

As from the rising sun to claim 

A sparkle of inspiring flame. 

His hand, reclined upon the wire, 

Seemed watching the awakening fire ; 

So still he sat as those who wait 60 

Till judgment speak the doom of fate; 

So still, as if no breeze might dare 

To lift one lock of hoary hair ; 

So still, as life itself were fled 

In the last sound his harp had sped. 65 



Upon a rock with lichens wild, 

Beside him Ellen sat and smiled. — 

Smiled she to see the stately drake 

Lead forth his fleet upon the lake, 

While her vexed spaniel from the beach 70 

Bayed at the prize beyond his reach ? 

Yet tell me, then, the maid who knows, 

Why deepened on her cheek the rose? — 

Forgive, forgive, Fidelity ! 

Perchance the maiden smiled to see 75 

Yon parting lingerer wave adieu. 

And stop and turn to wave anew; 

And, lovely ladies, ere your ire, 

Condemn the heroine of my lyre. 

Show. me the fair would scorn to spy 80 

And prize such conquest of her eye ! 

VI 

While yet he loitered on the spot. 
It seemed as Ellen marked him out ; 
But when he turned him to the glade, 
One courteous parting sign she made; 85 

59 



Lady of the Lake 

And after, oft the knight would say, 

That not when prize of festal day 

Was dealt him by the brightest fair 

Who e'er wore jewel in her hair, 

So highly did his bosom swell 90 

As at that simple mute farewell. 

Now with a trusty mountain-guide, 

And his dark stag hounds by his side, 

He parts, — the maid, unconscious still, 

Watched him wind slowly round the hill; 95 

But when his stately form was hid. 

The guardian in her bosom chid, — 

" Thy Malcolm ! vain and selfish maid ! " 

'Twas thus upbraiding conscience said, — 

" Not so had Malcolm idly hung 100 

On the smooth phrase of Southern tongue ; 

Not so had Malcolm strained his eye 

Another step than thine to spy." — 

" Wake, Allan-bane," aloud she cried 

To the old minstrel by her side, — 105 

*' Arouse thee from my moody dream! 

I'll give thy harp heroic theme, 

And warm thee with a noble name; 

Pour forth the glory of the Graeme ! " 

Scarce from her lip the word had rushed, no 

When deep the conscious maiden blushed ; 

For of his clan, in hall and bower, 

Young Malcolm Graeme was held the flower. 

VII 

The minstrel waked his harp, — three times 
Arose the well-known martial chimes, • 115 

And thrice their high heroic pride 
In melancholy murmurs died. 
*' Vainly thou bidst, O noble maid," 
Clasping his withered hands, he said, 
60 



Lady of the Lake 

" Vainly thou bidst me wake the strain, I20 

Though all unwont to bid in vain. 

Alas ! than mine a mightier hand 

Has tuned my harp, my strings has spanned ! 

I touch the chords of joy, but low 

And mournful answer notes of woe; 125 

And the proud march which victors tread 

Sinks in the wailing for the dead. 

O, well for me, if mine alone 

That dirge's deep prophetic tone ! 

If, as my tuneful fathers said, 130 

This harp, which erst Saint Modan swayed. 

Can thus its master's fate foretell. 

Then welcome be the minstrel's knell ! 



VIII 

" But ah ! dear lady, thus it sighed, 
The eve thy sainted mother died; 135 

And such the sounds which, while I strove 
To wake a lay of war or love, 
Came marring all the festal mirth. 
Appalling me who gave them birth, 
And, dis6bedient to my call, 140 

Wailed loud through Bothwell's bannered hall. 
Ere Douglases, to ruin driven. 
Were exiled from their native heaven. — 
O ! if yet worse mishap and woe 
My master's house must undergo, 145 

Or aught but weal to Ellen fair 
Confusedly bound in memory's ties, 
Brood in these accents of despair, 
No future bard, sad Harp ! shall fling 
Triumph or rapture from thy string; 
One short, one final strain shall flow, 1 50 

Fraught with unutterable woe, 
61 



Lady of the Lake 

Then shivered shall thy fragments lie, 
Thy master cast him down and die ! " 



IX 

Soothing she answered him : " Assuage, 
Mine honored friend, the fears of age; 155 

All melodies to thee are known 
That harp has rung or pipe has blown. 
In Lowland vale or Highland glen. 
From Tweed to Spey — what marvel, then. 
At times unbidden notes should rise, 160 

Entangling, as they rush along. 
The war-march with the funeral song? — 
Small ground is now for boding fear ; 
Obscure, but safe, we rest us here. 165 

My sire, in native virtue great, 
Resigning lordship, lands, and state, 
Not then to fortune more resigned 
Than yonder oak might give the wind ; 
The graceful foliage storms may reave, 170 

The noble stem they cannot grieve. 
For me " — she stooped, and, looking round. 
Plucked a blue harebell from the ground, — 
" For me, whose memory scarce conveys 
An image of more splendid days, 175 

This little flower that loves the lea 
May well my simple emblem be ; 
It drinks heaven's dew as blithe as rose 
That in the King's own garden grows : 
And when I place it in my hair, 180 

Allan, a bard is bound to swear 
He ne'er saw coronet so fair." 
Then playfully the chaplet wild 
She wreathed in her dark locks, and smiled. 
62 



Lady of the Lake 

X 

Her smile, her speech, with winning sway, 185 

Wiled the old Harper's mood away. 

With such a look as hermits throw, 

When angels stoop to soothe their woe, 

He gazed, till fond regret and pride 

Thrilled to a tear, then thus replied : 190 

" Loveliest and best ! thou little know'st 

The rank, the honors, thou hast lost ! 

O, might I live to see thee grace, 

In Scotland's court, thy birthright place, 

To see my favorite's step advance 195 

The lightest in the courtly dance. 

The cause of every gallant's sigh, 

And leading star of every eye, 

And theme of every minstrel's art. 

The Lady of the Bleeding Heart ! " 200 

XI 

" Fair dreams are these," the maiden cried, — 
Light was her accent, yet she sighed, — 
" Yet is this mossy rock to me 
Worth splendid chair and canopy ; 
Nor would my footstep spring more gay 205 

In courtly dance than blithe strathspey, 
Nor half so pleased mine ear incline 
To royal minstrel's lay as thine. 
And then for suitors proud and high. 
To bend before my conquering eye, — 210 

Thou, flattering bard ! thyself wilt say. 
That grim Sir Roderick owns its sway. 
The Saxon scourge, Clan-Alpine's pride, 
The terror of Loch Lomond's side, 
Would, at my suit, thou know'st, delay 215 

A Lennox foray — for a day." — 
63 



Lady of the Lake 

XII 

The ancient bard her glee repressed : 

" 111 hast thou chosen theme for jest! 

For who, through all this western wild, 

Named Black Sir Roderick e'er, and smiled? 220 

In Holy-Rood a knight he slew ; 

I saw, when back the dirk he drew, 

Courtiers give place before the stride 

Of the undaunted homicide ; 

And since, though outlawed, hath his hand 225 

Full sternly kept his mountain land. 

Who else dared give— ah ! woe the day, 

That I such hated truth should say ! — 

The Douglas, like a stricken deer. 

Disowned by every noble peer, 230 

Even the rude refuge we have here? 

Alas, this wild marauding Chief 

Alone might hazard our relief. 

And, now thy maiden charms expand, 

Looks for his guerdon in thy hand; 235 

Full soon may dispensation sought. 

To back his suit, from Rome be brought. 

Then, though an exile on the hill, 

Thy father, as the Douglas, still 

Be held in reverence and fear; 240 

And though to Roderick thou'rt so dear 

That thou mightst guide with silken thread, 

Slave of thy will, this chieftain dread. 

Yet, O loved maid, thy mirth refrain ! 

Thy hand is on a lion's mane." — 245 

XIII 

" Minstrel," the maid replied, and high 
Her father's soul glanced from her eye, 
*' My debts to Roderick's house I know : 
64 



Lady of the Lake 

All that a mother could bestow 

To Lady Margaret's care I owe, 250 

Since first an orphan in the wild 

She sorrowed o'er her sister's child ; 

To her brave chieftain son, from ire 

Of Scotland's king who shrouds my sire, 

A deeper, holier debt is owed ; 255 

And, could I pay it with my blood, 

Allan ! Sir Roderick should command 

My blood, my life, — but not my hand. 

Rather will Ellen Douglas dwell 

A votaress in Maronnan's cell ; 260 

Rather through realms beyond the sea, 

Seeking the world's cold charity. 

Where ne'er was spoke a Scottish word. 

And ne'er the name of Douglas heard, 

An outcast pilgrim will she rove, 265 

Than wed the man she cannot love. 



XIV 

" Thou shak'st, good friend, thy tresses gray, — 
That pleading look, what can it say 
But what I own ? — I grant him brave, 
But wild as Bracklinn's thundering wave ; 270 

And generous, — save vindictive mood 
Or jealous transport chafe his blood: 
I grant him true tO' friendly band. 
As his claymore is to his hand ; 

But O ! that very blade of steel 275 

More mercy for a foe would feel : 
I grant him liberal, to fling 
Among his clan the wealth they bring, 
When back by lake and glen they wind, 
And in the Lowland leave behind, 280 

Where once some pleasant hamlet stood, 
5 65 



Lady of the Lake 

A mass of ashes slaked with blood. 

The hand that for my father fought 

I honor, as his daughter ought; 

But can I clasp it reeking red 285 

From peasants slaughtered in their shed? 

No ! wildly while his virtues gleam, 

They make his passions darker seem. 

And flash along his spirit high 

Like lightning o'er the midnight sky. 290 

While yet a child, — and children know, 

Instinctive taught, the friend and fOe, — 

I shuddered at his brow of gloom. 

His shadowy plaid and sable plume; 

A maiden grown, I ill could bear 295 

His haughty mien and lordly air: 

But, if thou join'st a suitor's claim, 

In serious mood, to Roderick's name, 

I thrill with anguish ! or, if e'er 

A Douglas knew the word, with fear. 300 

To change such odious theme were best, — 

What think'st thou of our stranger guest ? " — 



XV 

" What think I of him ? — woe the while 
That brought such wanderer to our isle ! 
Thy father's battle-brand, of yore 305 

For Tine-man forged by fairy lore, 
What time he leagued, no longer foes, 
His Border spears with Hotspur's bows, 
Did, self-unscabbarded, foreshow 
The footstep of a secret foe. 310 

If courtly spy hath harbored here, 
What may we for the Douglas fear ? 
What for this island, deemed of old 
Clan- Alpine's last and surest hold ? 
66 



Lady of the Lake 

If neither spy nor foe, I pray, 315 

What yet may jealous Roderick say? — 

Nay, wave not thy disdainful head! 

Bethink thee of the discord dread 

That kindled when at Beltane game 

Thou ledst the dance with Malcolm Graeme ; 320 

Still, though thy sire the peace renewed, 

Smoulders in Roderick's breast the feud: 

Beware ! — But hark ! what sounds are these ? 

My dull ears catch nO' faltering breeze, 

No weeping birch nor aspens wake, 325 

Nor breath is dimpling in the lake ; 

Still is the canna's hoary beard, 

Yet, by my minstrel faith, I heard — 

And hark again ! some pipe of war 

Sends the bold pibroch from afar." 330 



XVI 

Far up the lengthened lake were spied 
Four darkening specks upon the tide 
That, slow enlarging on the view. 
Four manned and masted barges grew. 
And, bearing downwards from Glengyle, 335 

Steered full upon the lonely isle ; 
The point of Brianchoil they passed, 
And, to the windward as they cast. 
Against the sun they gave to shine 
The bold Sir Roderick's bannered Pine. 340 

Nearer and nearer as they bear. 
Spears, pikes, and axes flash in air. 
Now might you see the tartans brave, 
And plaids and plumage dance and wave : 
Now see the bonnets sink and rise, 345 

As his tough oar the rower plies ; 
See, flashing at each sturdy stroke, 
67 



Lady of the Lake 

The wave ascending into smoke ; 

See the proud pipers on the bow, 

And mark the gaudy streamers flow 350 

From their loud chanters down, and sweep 

The furrowed bosom of the deep, 

As, rushing through the lake amain, 

They plied the ancient Highland strain. 



XVII 

Ever, as on they bore, more loud 355 

And louder rung the pibroch proud. 
At first the sounds, by distance tame, 
Mellowed along the waters came. 
And, lingering long by cape and bay, 
Wailed every harsher note away, 360 

Then bursting bolder on the ear, 
The clan's shrill Gathering they could hear. 
Those thrilling sounds that call the might 
Of old Clan-Alpine to the fight. 
Thick beat the rapid notes, as when 365 

The mustering hundreds shake the glen, 
And, hurrying at the signal dread, 
The battered earth returns their tread. 
Then prelude light, of livelier tone, 
Expressed their merry marching on, 370 

Ere peal of closing battle rose, 
With mingled outcry, shrieks, and blows ; 
And mimic din of stroke and ward. 
As broadsword upon target jarred; 
And groaning pause, ere yet again, 375 

Condensed, the battle yelled amain : 
The rapid charge, the rallying shout, 
Retreat borne headlong into rout. 
And bursts of triumph, to declare 
Clan-Alpine's conquest — all were there. 380 

68 



Lady of the Lake 

Nor ended thus the strain, but slow- 
Sunk in a moan prolonged and low, 
And changed the conquering clarion swell 
For wild lament o'er those that fell. 

XVIII 

The war-pipes ceased, but lake and hill 385 

Were busy with their echoes still ; 

And, w^hen they slept, a vocal strain 

Bade their hoarse chorus wake again, 

While loud a hundred clansmen raise 

Their voices in their Chieftain's praise. 390 

Each boatsman, bending to his oar, 

With measured sweep the burden bore, 

In such wild cadence as the breeze 

Makes through December's leafless trees. 

The chorus first could Allan know, 395 

" Roderick Vich Alpine, ho ! iro ! " 

And near, and nearer as they rowed 

Distinct the martial ditty flowed. 

XIX 
BOAT SONG 

Hail to the Chief who' in triumph advances ! 

Honored and blessed be the ever green Pine ! 400 

Long may the tree, in his banner that glances. 
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line! 

Heaven send it happy dew, 

Earth lend it sap anew, 
Gaily to bourgeon and broadly to grow, 405 

While every Highland glen 

Sends our shout back again, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 

Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, 

Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade ; 410 

69 



Lady of the Lake 

When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the 
mountain, 
The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade. 
Moored in the rifted rock, 
Proof to the tempest's shock. 
Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow; 415 

Menteith and Breadalbane, then, 
Echo his praise again, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 

XX 

Proudly our pibroch has thrilled In Glen Fruin, 

And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied ; 420 
Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin, 
And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side. 
Widow and Saxon maid 
Long shall lament our raid. 
Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe : 425 

Lennox and Leven-glen 
Shake when they hear again, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 

Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands! 

Stretch to^ your oars for the ever green Pine ! 430 

O that the rosebud that graces yon islands 

Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine ! 

O that some seedling gem, 

Worthy such noble stem. 
Honored and blessed in their shadow might grow ! 435 

Loud should Clan-Alpine then 

Ring from her deepmost glen, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 

XXI 

With all her joyful female band 
Had Lady Margaret sought the strand. 440 

Loose on the breeze their tresses flew, 
70 



Lady of the Lake 

And high their snowy arms they threw, 

As echoing back with shrill acclaim, 

And chorus wild, the Chieftain's name ; 

While, prompt to please, with mother's art, 445 

The darling passion of his heart, 

The Dame called Ellen to the strand, 

To greet her kinsman ere he land: 

" Come, loiterer, come ! a Douglas thou. 

And shun to wreathe a victor's brow ? " 450 

Reluctantly and slow, the maid 

The unwelcome summoning obeyed. 

And when a distant bugle rung. 

In the mid-path aside she sprung: — 

" List, Allan-bane ! From mainland cast 455 

I hear my father's signal blast. 

Be ours," she cried, " the skiff to guide. 

And waft him from the mountain-side." 

Then, like a sunbeam, swift and bright, 

She darted to her shallop light, 460 

And eagerly while Roderick scanned, 

For her dear form, his mother's band, 

The islet far behind her lay. 

And she had landed in the bay. 



XXII 

Some feelings are to mortals given 465 

With less of earth in them than heaven ; 
And if there be a human tear 
From passion's dross refined and clear, 
A tear so limpid and so meek 

It would not stain an angel's cheek, 470 

'Tis that which pious fathers shed 
Upon a duteous daughter's head ! 
And as the Douglas to his breast 
His darling Ellen closely pressed, 
71 



Lady of the Lake 

Such holy drops her tresses steeped, 475 

Though 't was an hero's eye that weeped. 

Nor while on Ellen's faltering tongue 

Her filial welcomes crowded hung, 

Marked she that fear — affection's proof — 

Still held a graceful youth aloof ; 480 

No ! not till Douglas named his name, 

Although the youth was Malcolm GrcCme. 

XXIII 

Allan, with wistful look the while. 
Marked Roderick landing on the isle ; 
His master piteously he eyed, 485 

Then gazed upon the Chieftain's pride, 
Then dashed with hasty hand away 
From his dimmed eye the gathering spray; 
And Douglas, as his hand he laid 
On Malcolm's shoulder, kindly said: 490 

" Canst thou, young friend, no meaning spy 
In my poor follower's glistening eye? 
I'll tell thee : — he recalls the day 
When in my praise he led the lay 
O'er the arched gate of Bothwell proud, 495 

While many a minstrel answered loud. 
When Percy's Norman pennon, won 
In bloody field, before me shone, 
And twice ten knights, the least a name 
As mighty as yon Chief may claim, 500 

Gracing my pomp, behind me came. 
Yet trust me, Malcolm, not so proud 
Was I of all that marshalled crowd. 
Though the waned crescent owned my might. 
And in my train trooped lord and knight, 505 

Though Blantyre hymned her holiest lays. 
And Bothwell's bards flung back my praise. 
As when this old man's silent tear, 
72 



Lady of the Lake 

And this poor maid's affection dear, 

A welcome give more kind and true 510 

Than aught my better fortunes knew. 

Forgive, my friend, a father's boast, — 

O, it out-beggars all I lost ! " 

XXIV 

Delightful praise ! — like summer rose, 

That brighter in the dewdrop glows, 515 

The bashful maiden's cheek appeared, 

For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard. 

The flush of shame-faced joy to hide, 

The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide ; 

The loved caresses of the maid 520 

The dogs with crouch arid whimper paid; 

And, at her whistle, on her hand 

The falcon took his favorite stand, 

Closed his dark wing, relaxed his eye, 

Nor, though unhooded, sought to fly. 525 

And, trust, while in such guise she stood, 

Like fabled Goddess of the wood. 

That if a father's partial thought 

O'erweighed her worth and beauty aught, 

Well might the lover's judgment fail 530 

To balance with a juster scale ; 

For with each secret glance he stole, 

The fond enthusiast sent his soul. 

XXV 

Of stature fair, and slender frame. 

But firmly knit, was Malcolm Graeme. 535 

The belted plaid and tartan hose 

Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose ; 

His flaxen hair, of sunny hue. 

Curled closely round his bonnet blue. 



Lady of the Lake 

Trained to the chase, his eagle eye 540 

The ptarmigan in snow could spy ; 

Each pass, by mountain, lake, and heath, 

He knew, through Lennox and Menteith ; 

Vain was the bound of dark-brown doe 

When Malcolm bent his sounding bow, 545 

And scarce that doe, though winged with fear, 

Outstripped in speed the mountaineer : 

Right up Ben Lomond could he press. 

And not a sob his toil confess. 

His form accorded with a mind 550 

Lively and ardent, frank and kind ; 

A blither heart, till Ellen came, 

Did never love nor sorrow tame ; 

It danced as lightsome in his breast 

As played the feather on his crest. 555 

Yet friends, who nearest knew the youth. 

His scorn of wrong, his zeal for truth. 

And bards, who saw his features bold 

When kindled by the tales of old. 

Said, were that youth to manhood grown, 560 

Not long should Roderick Dhu's renown 

Be foremost voiced by mountain fame. 

But quail to that of Malcolm Graeme. 

XXVI 

Now back they wend their watery way. 
And, " O my sire ! " did Ellen say, 565 

" Why urge thy chase so far astray ? 
And why so late returned ? And why " — 
The rest was in her speaking eye. 
" My child, the chase I follow far, 
'T is mimicry of noble war; 570 

And with that gallant pastime reft 
Were all of Douglas I have left. 
I met young Malcolm as I strayed 
74 



Lady of the Lake 

Far eastward, in Glenfinals' shade; 

Nor strayed I safe, for all around 575 

Hunters and horsemen scoured the ground. 

This youth, though still a royal ward, 

Risked life and land to be my guard. 

And through the passes of the wood 

Guided my steps, not unpursued ; 580 

And Roderick shall his welcome make, 

Despite old spleen, for Douglas' sake. 

Then must he seek Strath-Endrick glen, 

Nor peril aught for me again." 

XXVII 

Sir Roderick, who to meet them came, 585 

Reddened at sight of Malcolm Graeme, 
Yet, not in action, word, or eye, 
Failed aught in hospitality. 
In talk and sport they whiled away 
The morning of that summer day ; 590 

But at high noon a courier light 
Held secret parley with the knight. 
Whose moody aspect soon declared 
That evil were the news he heard. 
Deep thought seemed toiling in his head ; 595 

Yet was the evening banquet made 
Ere he assembled round the flame 
His mother, Douglas, and the Graeme, 
And Ellen too ; then cast around 
His eyes, then fixed them on the ground, 600 

As studying phrase that might avail 
Best to convey unpleasant tale. 
Long with his dagger's hilt he played, 
Then raised his haughty brow, and said : — 
75 



Lady of the Lake 

XXVIII 

" Short be my speech ; — nor time affords, 605 

Nor my plain temper, glozing words. 
Kinsman and father — if such name 
Douglas vouchsafe to Roderick's claim ; 
Mine honored mother ; — Ellen, — why, 
My cousin, turn away thine eye? — 610 

And Graeme, in whom I hope to know 
Full soon a noble friend or foe. 
When age shall give thee thy command. 
And leading in thy native land, — 
List all ! — The King's vindictive pride 615 

Boasts to have tamed the Border-side, 
Where chiefs, with hound and hawk who came 
To share their monarch's sylvan game, 
Themselves in bloody toils were snared, 
And when the banquet they prepared, 620 

And wide their loyal portals flung. 
O'er their own gateway struggling hung. 
Loud cries their blood from Meggat's mead, 
From Yarrow braes and banks of Tweed, 
Where the lone streams of Ettrick glide, 625 

And from the silver Teviot's side; 
The dales, where martial clans did ride. 
Are now one sheep walk, waste and wide. 
This tyrant of the Scottish throne. 
So faithless and so ruthless known, 630 

Now hither comes ; his end the same. 
The same pretext of sylvan game. 
What grace for Highland Chiefs, judge ye 
By fate of Border chivalry. 

Yet more; amid Glenfinals' green, 635 

Douglas, thy stately form was seen. 
This by espial sure I know : 
Your counsel, in the streight I show ? " 
76 



Lady of the Lake 

XXIX 

Ellen and Margaret fearfully 

Sought comfort in each other's eye; 640 

Then turned their ghastly look, each one, 

This to her sire, that to her son. 

The hasty color went and came 

In the bold cheek of Malcolm Graeme, 

But from his glance it well appeared 645 

'Twas but for Ellen that he feared ; 

While, sorrowful, but undismayed. 

The Douglas thus his counsel said: 

" Brave Roderick, though the tempest roar, 

It may but thunder and pass o'er; 650 

Nor will I here remain an hour. 

To draw the lightning on thy bower ; 

For well thou know'st, at this gray head 

The royal bolt were fiercest sped. 

For thee, who, at thy King's command, 655 

Canst aid him with a gallant band. 

Submission, homage, humbled pride, 

Shall turn the Monarch's wrath aside. 

Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart, 

Ellen and I will seek apart 660 

The refuge of some forest cell; 

There, like the hunted quarry, dwell, 

Till on the mountain and the moor 

The stern pursuit be passed and o'er." — 

XXX 

" No, by mine honor," Roderick said, 665 

" So help me Heaven, and my good blade ! 

No, never ! Blasted be yon Pine, 

My father's ancient crest and mine, 

If from its shade in danger part 

The lineage of the Bleeding Heart ! 670 

Hear my blunt speech : grant me this maid 



Lady of the Lake 

To wife, thy counsel to mine aid ; 

To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dhu, 

Will friends and allies flock enow ; 

Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief, 675 

Will bind to us each Western Chief. 

When the loud pipes my bridal tell. 

The Links of Forth shall hear the knell, 

The guards shall start in Stirling's porch; 

And, when I light the nuptial torch, 680 

A thousand villages in flames 

Shall scare the slumbers of King James ! — 

Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away. 

And, mother, cease these signs, I pray ; 

I meant not all my heat might say.^ 685 

Small need of inroad or of fight. 

When the sage Douglas may unite 

Each mountain clan in friendly band, 

To guard the passes of their land. 

Till the foiled King from pathless glen 690 

Shall bootless turn him home again." 

XXXI 

There are who have at midnight hour 
In slumber scaled a dizzy tower, 
And, on the verge that beetled o'er 
The ocean tide's incessant roar, 695 

Dreamed calmly out their dangerous dream, 
Till wakened by the morning beam ; 
When, dazzled by the eastern glow, 
Such startler cast his glance below. 
And saw unmeasured depth around, 700 

And heard unintermitted sound. 
And thought the battled fence so frail, 
It waved like cobweb in the gale; — 
Amid his senses' giddy wheel, 

Did he not desperate impulse feel, 705 

78 



Lady of the Lake 

Headlong to plunge himself below, 

And meet the worst his fears foreshow? — 

Thus Ellen, dizzy and astound, 

As sudden ruin yawned around, 

By crossing terrors wildly tossed, 710 

Still for the Douglas fearing most, 

Could scarce the desperate thought withstand, 

To buy his safety with her hand. 

XXXII 

Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy 
In Ellen's quivering lip and eye, 715 

And eager rose to speak, — but ere 
His tongue could hurry forth his fear, 
Had Douglas marked the hectic strife, 
Where death seemed combating with life ; 
For to her cheek, in feverish flood, 720 

One instant rushed the throbbing blood. 
Then ebbing back, with sudden sway, 
Left its domain as wan as clay. 
" Roderick, enough ! enough ! " he cried, 
*' My daughter cannot be thy bride ; 725 

Not that the blush to wooer dear. 
Nor paleness that of maiden fear. 
It may not be, — forgive her, Chief, 
Nor hazard aught for our relief. 
Against his sovereign, Douglas ne'er 730 

Will level a rebellious spear. 
'T was I that taught his youthful hand 
To rein a steed and wield a brand ; 
I see him yet, the princely boy ! 735 

Not Ellen more my pride and joy; 
I love him still, despite my wrongs 
By hasty wrath and slanderous tongues. 
O, seek the grace you well may find. 
Without a cause to mine combined ! " 
79 



Lady of the Lake 

XXXIII 

Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode ; 740 

The waving of his tartans broad, 

And darkened brow, where wounded pride 

With ire and disappointment vied, 

Seemed, by the torch's gloomy light, 

Like the ill Demon of the night, 745 

Stooping his pinions' shadowy sway 

Upon the nighted pilgrim's way : 

But, unrequited Love ! thy dart 

Plunged deepest its envenomed smart, 

And Roderick, with thine anguish stung, 750 

At length the hand of Douglas wrung. 

While eyes that mocked at tears before 

With bitter drops were running o'er. 

The death-pangs of long-cherished hope 

Scarce in that ample breast had scope, 755 

But, struggling with his spirit proud. 

Convulsive heaved its checkered shroud, 

While every sob — so- mute were all — 

Was heard distinctly through the hall. 

The son's despair, the mother's look, 760 

III might the gentle Ellen brook; 

She rose, and to her side there came, 

To aid her parting steps, the Graeme. 



XXXIV 

Then Roderick from the Douglas broke — 
As flashes flame through sable smoke, 765 

Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, and low, 
To one broad blaze of ruddy glow. 
So the deep anguish of despair 
Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air. 
With stalwart rasp his hand he laid 770 

On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid : 
80 



Lady of the Lake 

'' Back, beardless boy ! " he sternly said, 

" Back, minion ! holdst thou thus at naught • 

The lesson I so lately taught? 

This roof, the Douglas, and that maid, 775 

Thank thou for punishment delayed." 

Eager as greyhound on his game, 

Fiercely with Roderick grappled Graeme. 

*' Perish my name, if aught afford 

Its Chieftain safety save his sword ! " 780 

Thus as they strove their desperate hand 

Griped to the dagger or the brand, 

And death had been — but Douglas rose, 

And thrust between the struggling foes 

His giant strength: — '* Chief tains, forego! 785 

I hold the first who strikes my foe. — 

Madmen, forbear your frantic jar ! 

What ! is the Douglas fallen so far, 

His daughter's hand is deemed the spoil 

Of such dishonorable broil ? " 790 

Sullen and slowly they unclasp, 

As struck with shame, their desperate grasp. 

And each upon his rival glared, 

With foot advanced and blade half bared. 



XXXV 

Ere yet the brands aloft were flung, 795 

Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung. 
And Malcolm heard his Ellen's scream, 
As faltered through terrific dream. 
Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword, 
And veiled his wrath in scornful word : 800 

" Rest safe till morning ; pity 't were 
Such cheek should feel the midnight air! 
Then mayst thou to James Stuart tell, 
Roderick will keep the lake and fell, 
6 81 



Lady of the Lake 

Nor lackey with his f reeborn clan 805 

The pageant pomp of earthly man. 

More would he of Clan-Alpine know, 

Thou canst our strength and passes show. — 

Malise, what ho ! " — his henchman came : 

" Give our safe-conduct to the Graeme." 810 

Young Malcolm answered calm and bold : 

" Fear nothing for thy favorite hold ; 

The spot an angel deigned to grace 

Is blessed, though robbers haunt the place. 

Thy churlish courtesy for those • 815 

Reserve, who fear to be thy foes. 

As safe to me the mountain way 

At midnight as in blaze of day, 

Though with his boldest at his back 

Even Roderick Dhu beset the track. — 820 

Brave Douglas — lovely Ellen, — nay, 

Naught here of parting will I say. 

Earth does not hold a lonesome glen 

So secret but we meet again. — 

Chieftain ! we too shall find an hour," — 825 

He said, and left the sylvan bower. 

XXXVI 

Old Allan followed to the strand — 
Such was the Douglas's command — 
And anxious told, how, on the morn, 
The stern Sir Roderick deep had sworn, 830 

The Fiery Cross should circle o'er 
Dale, glen, and valley, down and moor. 
Much were the peril to the Graeme 
From those who to the signal came ; 
Far up the lake 't were safest land, 835 

Himself would row him to the strand. 
He gave his counsel to the wind, 
While Malcolm did, unheeding, bind, 
82 



Lady of the Lake 

Round dirk and pouch and broadsword rolled, 
His ample plaid in tightened fold, 840 

And stripped his limbs to such array 
As best might suit the watery way, — 

XXXVII 

Then spoke abrupt : " Farewell to thee, 
Pattern of old fidelity ! " 

The Minstrel's hand he kindly pressed, — 845 

*' O, could I point a place of rest ! 
My sovereign holds in ward my land. 
My uncle leads my vasal band ; 
To tame his foes, his friends to aid, 
Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade. 850 

Yet, if there be one faithful Graeme 
Who loves the chieftains of his name. 
Not long shall honored Douglas dwell 
Like hunted stag in mountain cell ; 
Nor, ere yon pride-swollen robber dare, — 855 

I may not give the rest to air ! ^ 

Tell Roderick Dhu I owed him naught. 
Not the poor service of a boat, 
To waft me to yon mountain-side." 
Then plunged he in the flashing tide. 860 

Bold o'er the flood his head he bore. 
And stoutly steered him from the shore; 
And Allan strained his anxious eye, 
Far mid the lake his form to spy. 
Darkening across each puny wave, 865 

To which the moon her silver gave. 
Fast as the cormorant could skim, 
The swimmer plied each active limb; 
Then landing in the moonlight dell, 
Loud shouted of his weal to tell. 870 

The Minstrel heard the far halloo, 
And joyful from the shore withdrew. 
83 



CANTO THIRD 

THE GATHERING 



Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, 

Who danced our infancy upon their knee, 
And told our marvelling boyhood legends store 

Of their strange ventures happed by land or sea, 
How are they blotted from the things that be ! 5 

How few, all weak and withered of their force. 
Wait on the verge of dark eternity, 

Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse. 
To sweep them from our sight! Time rolls his cease- 
less course. 
Yet live there still who can remember well, lo 

How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew, 
Both field and forest, dingle, cliff, and dell. 

And solitary heath, the signal knew ; 
And fast the faithful clan around him drew. 

What time the warning note was keenly wound, 1 5 

What time aloft their kindred banner flew, 

While clamorous war-pipes yelled the gathering sound, 
And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteor, round. 

II 
The Summer dawn's reflected hue 
To purple changed Loch Katrine blue ; 20 

Mildly and soft the western breeze 
Just kissed the lake, just stirred the trees, 
And the pleased lake, like maiden coy. 
Trembled but dimpled not for joy : 
The mountain-shadows on her breast 25 

Were neither broken nor at rest; 



Lady of the Lake 

In bright uncertainty they He, 

Like future joys to Fancy's eye, 

The water-Hly to the Hght 

Her chaHce reared of silver bright ; 30 

The doe awoke, and to the lawn, 

Begemmed with dew-drops, led her fawn ; 

The gray mist left the mountain-side, 

The torrent showed its glistening pride ; 

Invisible in flecked sky 35 

The lark sent down her revelry ; 

The blackbird and the speckled thrush 

Good-morrow gave from brake and bush; 

In answer cooed the cushat dove 

Her notes of peace and rest and love. 40 

III 
No thought of peace, no thought of rest, 
Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast. 
With sheathed broadsword in his hand, 
Abrupt he paced the islet strand, 
And eyed the rising sun, and laid 45 

His hand on his impatient blade. 
Beneath a rock, his vassals' care 
Was prompt the ritual to prepare, 
With deep and deathful meaning fraught; 
For such Antiquity had taught 50 

Was preface meet, ere yet abroad 
The Cross of Fire should take its road. 
The shrinking band stood oft aghast 
At the impatient glance he cast ; — 
Such glance the mountain eagle threw, 55 

As, from the cliffs of Benvenue, 
She spread her dark sails on the wind. 
And, high in middle heaven reclined. 
With her broad shadow on the lake. 
Silenced the warblers of the brake. 60 

85 



Lady of the Lake 

IV 

A heap of withered boughs was piled, 

Of juniper and rowan wild, 

Mingled with shivers from the oak, 

Rent by the lightning's recent stroke. 

Brian the Hermit by it stood, 65 

Barefooted, in his frock and hood. 

His grizzled beard and matted hair 

Obscured a visage of despair ; 

His naked arms and legs, seamed o'er, 

The scars of frantic penance bore. 70 

That monk, of savage form and face, 

The impending danger of his race 

Had drawn from deepest solitude, 

Far in Benharrow's bosom rude. 

Not' his the mien of Christian priest, 75 

But Druid's, from the grave released. 

Whose hardened heart and eye might brook 

On human sacrifice to look; 

And much, 'twas said, of heathen lore 

Mixed in the charms he muttered o'er. 80 

The hallowed creed gave only worse 

And 'deadlier emphasis of curse. 

No peasant sought that Hermit's prayer, 

His cave the pilgrim shunned with care ; 

The eager huntsman knew his bound, 85 

And in mid chase called off his hound ; 

Or if, in lonely glen or strath. 

The desert-dweller met his path, 

He prayed, and signed the cross between, 

While terror took devotion's mien. 90 

V 

Of Brian's birth strange tales were told. 
His mother watched a midnight fold, 
Built deep within a dreary glen, 
86 



Lady of the Lake 

Where scattered lay the bones of men 

In some forgotten battle slain, 95 

And bleached by drifting wind and rain. 

It might have tamed a warrior's heart 

To view such mockery of his art ! 

The knot-grass fettered there the hand 

Which once could burst an iron band; 100 

Beneath the broad and ample bone, 

That bucklered heart to fear unknown, 

A feeble and a timorous guest, 

The fieldfare framed her lowly nest; 

There the slow blindworm left his slime 105 

On the fleet limbs that mocked at time ; 

And there, too, lay the leader's skull. 

Still wreathed with chaplet, flushed and full, 

For heath-bell with her purple bloom 

Supplied the bonnet and the plume. no 

All night, in this sad glen, the maid 

Sat shrouded in her mantle's shade : 

She said no shepherd sought her side, 

No hunter's hand her snood untied. 

Yet ne'er again to braid her hair 115 

The virgin snood did Alice wear; 

Nor sought she, from that fatal night, 

Or holy church or blessed rite. 

But locked her secret in her breast. 

And died in travail, unconfessed. 120 

VI 
Alone, among his young compeers, 
Was Brian from his infant years ; 
A moody and heart-broken boy, 125 

Estranged from sympathy and joy. 
Bearing each taunt which careless tongue 
On his mysterious lineage flung. 
Whole nights he spent by moonlight pale, 

87 



Lady of the Lake 

To wood and stream his hap to wail, 130 

Till, frantic, he as truth received 

What of his birth the crowd believed, 

And sought, in mist and meteor fire. 

To meet and know his Phantom Sire! 

In vain, to soothe his wayward fate, 135 

The cloister oped her pitying gate ; 

In vain the learning of the age 

Unclasped the sable-lettered page ; 

Even in its treasures he could find 

Food for the fever of his mind. 140 

Eager he read whatever tells 

Of magic, cabala, and spells. 

And every dark pursuit allied 

To curious and presumptuous pride ; 

Till with fired brain and nerves o'erstrung, 145 

And heart with mystic horrors wrung, 

Desperate he sought Benharrow's den, 

And hid him from the haunts of men. 



VII 

The desert gave him visions wild. 
Such as might suit the spectre's child. 150 

Where with black cliffs the torrents toil, 
He watched the wheeling eddies boil, 
Till from their foam his dazzled eyes 
Beheld the River Demon rise: 

The mountain mist took form and limb 155 

Of noontide hag or goblin grim ; 
The midnight wind came wild and dread, 
Swelled with the voices of the dead ; 
Far on the future battle-heath 

His eye beheld the ranks of death : 160 

Thus the lone Seer, from mankind hurled, 
Shaped forth a disembodied world. 
88 



Lady of the Lake 

One lingering sympathy of mind 

Still bound him to the mortal kind; 

The only parent he could claim 165 

Of ancient Alpine's lineage came. 

Late had he heard, in prophet's dream, 

The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream ; 

Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast 

Of charging steeds, careering fast 170 

Along Benharrow's shingly side. 

Where mortal horseman ne'er might ride; 

The thunderbolt had split the pine, — 

All augured ill to Alpine's line. 

He girt his loins, and came to show 175 

The signals of impending woe, 

And now stood prompt to bless or ban, 

As bade the Chieftain of his clan. 



VIII 

Twas all prepared ; — and from the rock 
A goat, the patriarch of the flock, 180 

Before the kindling pile was laid. 
And pierced by Roderick's ready blade. 
Patient the sickening victim eyed 
The life-blood ebb in crimson tide 
Down his clogged beard and shaggy limb, 185 

Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim. 
The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer, 
A slender crosslet framed with care, 
A cubit's length in measure due ; 
The shaft and limbs were rods of yew, 190 

Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave 
Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave. 
And, answering Lomond's breezes deep. 
Soothe many a chieftain's endless sleep. 
The Cross thus formed he held on high, 195 

89 



Lady of the Lake 

With wasted hand and haggard eye, 
And strange and mingled feelings woke, 
While his anathema he spoke : — 



IX 

" Woe to the clansman who shall view 

This symbol of sepulchral yew, JOO 

Forgetful that its branches grew 

Where weep the heavens their holiest dew 

On Alpine's dwelling low ! 
Deserter of his Chieftain's trust, 
He ne'er shall mingle with their dust, 205 

But, from his sires and kindred thrust. 
Each clansman's execration just 

Shall doom him wrath and woe." 
He paused ; — the word the vassals took, 
With forward step and fiery look, 210 

On high their naked brands they shook, 
Their clattering targets wildly strook; 

And first in murmur low, 
Then, like the billow in his course, 
That far to seaward finds his source, 215 

And flings to shore his mustered force. 
Burst with loud roar their answer hoarse, 

" Woe to the traitor, woe ! " 
Ben-an's gray scalp the accents knew, 
The joyous wolf from covert drew, 220 

The exulting eagle screamed afar, — 
They knew the voice of Alpine's war. 

X 

The shout was hushed on lake and fell; 
The Monk resumed his muttered spell : 
Dismal and low its accents came, 225 

The while he scathed the Cross with flame ; 
90 



Lady of the Lake 

And the few words that reached the air, 

Although the holiest name was there, 

Had more of blasphemy than prayer. 

But when he shook above the crowd 230 

Its kindled points, he spoke aloud : — 

" Woe to the wretch who fails to rear 

At this dread sign the ready spear! 

For, as the flames this symbol sear, 

His home, the refuge of his fear, 235 

A kindred fate shall know ; 
Far o'er its roof the volumed flame 
Clan-Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim, 
While maids and matrons on his name 
Shall call down wretchedness and shame, 240 

And infamy and woe." 
Then rose the cry of females, shrill 
As goshawk's whistle on the hill. 
Denouncing misery and ill, 
Mingled with childhood's babbling trill 245 

Of curses stammered slow ; 
Answering with imprecation dread, 
" Sunk be his home in embers red ! 
And cursed be the meanest shed 
That e'er shall hide the houseless head 250 

We doom to want and woe ! " 
A sharp and shrieking echo gave, 
Coir-Uriskin,. thy goblin cave ! 
And the gray pass where birches wave 

On Beala-nam-bo. 255 

XI 

Then deeper paused the priest anew. 

And hard his laboring breath he drew, 

While, with set teeth and clenched hand. 

And eyes that glowed like fiery brand, 

He meditated curse more dread, 260 

91 



Lady of the Lake 

And deadlier, on the clansman's head 

Who, summoned to his chieftain's aid, 

The signal saw and disobeyed. 

The crosslet's points of sparkling wood 

He quenched among the bubbling blood, 265 

And, as again the sign he reared, 

Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard : 

" When flits this Cross from man to man, 

Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan, 

Burst be the ear that fails to heed 1 270 

Palsied the foot that shuns to speed ! 

May ravens tear the careless eyes. 

Wolves make the coward heart their prize ! 

As sinks that blood-stream in the earth. 

So may his heart's-blood drench his hearth ! 275 

As dies in hissing gore the spark, 

Quench thou his light, Destruction dark ! 

And be the grace to him denied, 

Bought by this sign to all beside ! '* 

He ceased ; no echo gave again 280 

The murmur of the deep Amen. 

XII 

Then Roderick with impatient look 
From Brian's hand the symbol took : 
" Speed, Malise, speed ! " he said, and gave 
The crosslet to his henchman brave. 285 

*' The muster-place be Lanrick mead — 
Instant the time — speed, Malise, speed ! " 
Like heath-bird, when the hawks pursue, 
A barge across Loch Katrine flew : 
High stood the henchman on the prow ; 290 

So rapidly the barge-men row. 
The bubbles, where they launched the.boat, 
Were all unbroken and afloat. 
Dancing in foam and ripple still, 
92 



Lady of the Lake 

When it had neared the mainland hill ; 295 

And from the silver beach's side 
Still was the prow three fathom wide, 
When lightly bounded to the land 
The messenger of blood and brand. 

XIII 

Speed, Malise, speed ! the dun deer's hide 300 

On fleeter foot was never tied. 

Speed, Malise, speed ! such cause of haste 

Thine active sinews never braced. 

Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast, 

Burst down like torrent from its crest ; 305 

With short and springing footstep pass 

The trembling bog and false morass ; 

Across the brook like roebuck bound, 

And thread the brake like questing hound ; 

The crag is high, the scaur is deep, 310 

Yet shrink not from the desperate leap: 

Parched are thy burning lips and brow, 

Yet by the fountain pause not now ; -i 

Herald of battle, fate, and fear. 

Stretch onward in thy fleet career! 315 

The wounded hind thou track'st not now, 

Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough, 

Nor pliest thou now thy flying pace 

With rivals in the mountain race ; 

But danger, death, and warrior deed 320 

Are in thy course — speed, Malise, speed ! 

XIV 

Fast as the fatal symbol flies, 
In arms the huts and hamlets rise ; 
From winding glen, from upland brown, 
They poured each hardy tenant down. 325 

Nor slacked the messenger his pace; 
93 



Lady of the Lake 

He showed the sign, he named the place. 

And, pressing forward Hke the wind, 

Left clamor and surprise behind. 

The fisherman forsook the strand, 330 

The swarthy smith took dirk and brand ; 

With changed cheer, the mower blithe 

Left in the half -cut swath his scythe ; 

The herds without a keeper strayed, 

The plough was in mid-furrow stayed, 335 

The falconer tossed his hawk away. 

The hunter left the stag at bay ; 

Prompt at the signal of alarms, 

Each son of Alpine rushed to arms ; 

So swept the tumult and affray 340 

Along the margin of Achray. 

Alas, thou lovely lake ! that e'er 

Thy banks should echo sounds of fear! 

The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep 

So stilly on thy bosom deep, 345 

The lark's blithe carol from the cloud 

Seems for the scene too gayly loud. 

XV 

Speed, Malise, speed ! The lake is past, 

Duncraggan's huts appear at last. 

And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen, 350 

Half hidden in the copse so green ; 

There mayst thou rest, thy labor done, 

Their lord shall speed the signal on. — 

As stoops the hawk upon his prey, 

The henchman shot him down the way. 355 

What woful accents load the gale? 

The funeral yell, the female wail 1 

A gallant hunter's sport is o'er, 

A valiant warrior fights no more. 

Who, in the battle or the chase, 360 

94 



Lady of the Lake 

At Roderick's side shall fill his place ! — 

Within the hall, where torch's ray 

Supplies the excluded beams of day, 

Lies Duncan on his lowly bier, 

And o'er him streams his widow's tear. 365 

His stripling son stands mournful by, 

His youngest weeps, but knows not why ; 

The village maids and matrons round 

The dismal coronach resound. 



XVI 
CORONACH 

He is gone on the mountain, 370 

He is lost to the forest, 
Like a summer-dried fountain. 

When our need was the sorest. 
The font, reappearing. 

From the rain-drops shall borrow, 375 

But to us comes no cheering, 

To Duncan no morrow ! 

The hand of the reaper 

Takes the ears that are hoary, 
But the voice of the weeper 380 

Wails manhood in glory. 
The autumn winds rushing 

Waft the leaves that are searest, 
But our flower was in flushing. 

When blighting was nearest. 385 

Fleet foot on the correi. 

Sage counsel in cumber, 
Red hand in the foray. 

How sound is thy slumber! 
95 



Lady of the Lake 

Like the dew on the mountain, 390 

Like the foam on the river, 
Like the bubble on the fountain. 

Thou art gone, and forever! 

XVII 

See Stumah, who, the bier beside, 

His master's corpse with wonder eyed, 395 

Poor Stumah ! whom his least halloo 

Could send like lightning o'er the dew, 

Bristles his crest, and points his ears. 

As if some stranger step he hears. 

'Tis not a mourner's muffled tread, 400 

Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead, 

But headlong haste or deadly fear 

Urge the precipitate career. 

All stand aghast : — unheeding all, 

The henchman bursts into the hall ; 405 

Before the dead man's bier he stood, 

Held forth the Cross besmeared with blood; 

" The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; 

Speed forth the signal ! clansmen, speed ! " 

XVIIT 

Angus, the heir of Duncan's line, . 410 

Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign. 
In haste the stripling to his side 
His father's dirk and broadsword tied; 
But when he saw his mother's eye 
Watch him in speechless agony, 415 

Back to her opened arms he flew, 
Pressed on her lips a fond adieu, — 
" Alas ! " she sobbed, — '' and yet be gone, 
And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son ! " 
One look he cast upon the bier, 420 

96 



Lady of the Lake 

Dashed from his eye the gathering tear, 

Breathed deep to clear his laboring breast, 

And tossed aloft his bonnet crest, 

Then, like the high-bred colt when, freed, 

First he essays his lire and speed, 425 

He vanished, and o'er moor and moss 

Sped forward with the Fiery Cross. 

Suspended was the widow's tear 

While yet his footsteps she could hear; 

And when she marked the henchman's eye 430 

Wet with unwonted sympathy, 

" Kinsman," she said, " his race is run 

That should have sped thine errand on ; 

The oak has fallen, — the sapling bough 

Is all Duncraggan's shelter now. 435 

Yet trust I well, his duty done. 

The orphan's God will guard my son. — 

And you, in many a danger true. 

At Duncan's best your blades that drew. 

To arms, and guard that orphan's head ! 440 

Let babes and women wail the dead." 

Then weapon-clang and martial call 

Resounded through the funeral hall. 

While from the walls the attendant band 

Snatched sword and targe with hurried hand 445 

And short and flitting energy 

Glanced from the mourner's sunken eye, 

As if the sounds to warrior dear 

Might rouse her Duncan from his bier. 

But faded soon that borrowed force ; 450 

Grief claimed his right, and tears their course. 

XIX 

Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, 
It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire. 
O'er dale and hill the summons flew, 
7 97 



Lady of the Lake 

Nor rest nor pause young Angus knew; 455 

The tear that gathered in his eye 

He left the mountain-breeze to dry ; 

Until, where Teith's young waters roll 

Betwixt him and a wooded knoll 

That graced the sable strath with green, 460 

The chapel of Saint Bride was seen. 

Swoln was the stream, remote the bridge, 

But Angus paused not on the edge ; 

Though the dark waves danced dizzily. 

Though reeled his sympathetic eye, 465 

He dashed amid the torrent's roar: 

His right hand high the crosslet bore, 

His left the pole ax grasped, to guide 

And stay his footing in the tide. 

He stumbled twice, — the foam splashed high, 470 

With hoarser swell the stream raced by ; 

And had he fallen, — forever there, 

Farewell Duncraggan's orphan heir! 

But still, as if in parting life, 

Firmer he grasped the Cross of strife, 475 

Until the opposing bank he gained, 

And up the chapel pathway strained. 



XX 

A blithesome rout that morning-tide 
Had sought the chapel of Saint Bride. 
Her troth Tombea's Mary gave 480 

To Norman, heir of Armandave, 
And, issuing from the Gothic arch, 
The bridal now resumed their march. 
In rude but glad procession came 
Bonneted sire and coif-clad dame ; 485 

And plaided youth, with jest and jeer. 
Which snooded maiden would not hear; 
98 



Lady of the Lake 

And children, that, unwitting why, 

Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry; 

And minstrels, that in measures vied 490 

Before the young and bonny bride, 

Whose downcast eye and cheek disclose 

The tear and blush of morning rose. 

With virgin step and bashful hand 

She held the kerchief's snowy band. 495 

The gallant bridegroom by her side 

Beheld his prize with victor's pride, 

And the glad mother in her ear 

W^as closely whispering word of cheer. 



XXI 

Who meets them at the churchyard gate ? 500 

The messenger of fear and fate ! 

Haste in his hurried accent lies, 

And grief is swimming in his eyes. 

All dripping from the recent flood. 

Panting and travel-soiled he stood, 505 

The fatal sign of fire and sword 

Held forth, an\d spoke the appointed word : 

" The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; 

Speed forth the signal ! Norman, speed ! " 

And must he change so soon the hand 510 

Just linked to his by holy band, 

For the fell Cross of blood and brand? 

And must the day so blithe that rose, 

And promised rapture in the close. 

Before its setting hour, divide 515 

The bridegroom from the plighted bride? 

O fatal doom ! — it must ! it must ! 

Clan-Alpine's cause, her Chieftain's trust, 

Her summons dread, brook no delay ; 

Stretch to the race, — away ! away ! 520 

99 



Lady of the Lake 

XXII 

Yet slow he laid his plaid aside, 

And lingering eyed his lovely bride, 

Until he saw the starting tear 

Speak woe he might not stop to cheer ; 

Then, trusting not a second look, 525 

In haste he sped him up the brook. 

Nor backward glanced till on the heath 

Where Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teith. — 

What in the racer's bosom stirred? 

The sickening pang of hope deferred, 530 

And memory with a torturing train 

Of all his morning visions vain. 

Mingled with love's impatience, came 

The manly thirst for martial fame; 

The stormy joy of mountaineers 535 

Ere yet they rush upon the spears ; 

And zeal for Clan and Chieftain burning, 

And hope, from well-fought field returning, 

With war's red honors on his crest. 

To clasp his Mary to his breast. 540 

Stung by such thoughts, o'er bank and brae, 

Like fire from flint he glanced away. 

While high resolve and feeling strong 

Burst into voluntary song. 

XXIII 
SONG 

The heath this night must be my bed, 545 

The bracken curtain for my head. 
My lullaby the warder's tread. 

Far, far, from love and thee, Mary. 
To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, 
My couch may be my bloody plaid, 550 

My vesper song thy wail, sweet maid ! 

It will not waken me, Mary! 
100 



Lady of the Lake 

I may not, dare not, fancy now 

The grief that clouds thy lovely brow; 

I dare not think upon thy vow, 555 

And all it promised me, Mary. 
No fond regret must Norman know ; 
When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe, 
His heart must be like bended bow, 

His foot like arrow free, Mary. 560 

A time will come with feeling fraught, 
For, if I fall in battle fought, 
Thy hapless lover's dying thought 

Shall be a thought on thee, Mary. 
And if returned from conquered foes, 565 

How blithely will the evening close, 
How sweet the linnet sing repose. 

To my young bride and me, Mary ! 



XXIV 

Not faster o'er thy heathery braes, 

Balquidder, speeds the midnight blaze, 570 

Rushing in conflagration strong 

Thy deep ravines and dells along. 

Wrapping thy cliffs in purple glow. 

And reddening the dark lakes below ; 

Nor faster speeds it, nor so far, 575 

As o'er thy heaths the voice of war. 

The signal roused to martial coil 

The sullen margin of Loch Voil, 

Waked still Loch Doine, and to the source 

Alarmed, Balvaig, thy swampy course ; 580 

Thence southward turned its rapid road 

Adown Strath-Gartney's valley broad. 

Till rose in arms each man might claim 

A portion in Clan- Alpine's name, 



Lady of the Lake 

From the gray sire, whose trembhng hand 585 

Could hardly buckle on his brand, 

To the raw boy, whose shaft and bow 

Were yet scarce terror to the crow. 

Each valley, each sequestered glen, 

Mustered its little horde of men, 590 

That met as torrents from the height 

In Highland dales their streams unite, 

Still gathering, as they pour along, 

A voice more loud, a tide more strong, 

Till at the rendezvous they stood 595 

By hundreds prompt for blows and blood, 

Each trained to arms since life began, 

Owning no tie but to his clan. 

No oath but by his chieftain's hand. 

No law but Roderick Dhu's command. 600 



XXV 

That summer morn had Roderick Dhu 
Surveyed the skirts of Benvenue, 
And sent his scouts o'er hill and heath, 
To view the frontiers of Menteith. 
All backward came with news of truce ; 605 

Still lay each martial Graeme and Bruce, 
In Rednock courts no horsemen wait, 
No banner waved on Cardross gate. 
On Duchray's towers no beacon shone. 
Nor scared the herons from Loch Con ; 610 

All seemed at peace. — Now wot ye why 
The Chieftain with such anxious eye. 
Ere to the muster he repair. 
This western frontier scanned with care? — ' 
In Benvenue's most darksome cleft, 615 

A fair though cruel pledge was left; 
For Douglas, to his promise true, 
102 



Lady of the Lake 

That morning from the isle withdrew, 

And in a deep sequestered dell 

Had sought a low and lonely cell. 620 

By many a bard in Celtic tongue 

Has Coir-nan-Uriskin been sung; 

A softer name the Saxons gave, 

And called the grot the Goblin Cave. 



XXVI 

It was a wild and strange retreat, 625 

As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet. 
The dell, upon the mountain's crest. 
Yawned like a gash on warrior's breast ; 
Its trench had stayed full many a rock. 
Hurled by primeval earthquake shock 630 

From Benvenue's gray summit wild, 
And here, in random ruin piled. 
They frowned incumbent o'er the spot, 
And formed the rugged sylvan grot. 
The oak and birch with mingled shade 635 

At noontide there a twilight made, 
Unless when short and sudden shone 
Some straggling beam on cliff or stone, 
With such a glimpse as prophet's eye 
Gains on thy depth, Futurity. 640 

No murmur waked the solemn still, 
Save tinkling of a fountain rill ; 
But when the wind chafed with the lake, 
A sullen sound would upward break, 
With dashing hollow voice, that spoke 645 

The incessant war of wave and rock. 
Suspended cliffs with hideous sway 
Seemed nodding o'er the cavern gray. 
From such a den the wolf had sprung, 
In such the wildcat leaves her young ; 650 

103 



Lady of the Lake 

Yet Douglas and his daughter fair 

Sought for a space their safety there. 

Gray Superstition's whisper dread 

Debarred the spot to vulgar tread ; 

For there, she said, did fays resort, 655 

And satyrs hold their sylvan court, 

By moonlight tread their mystic maze, 

And blast the rash beholder's gaze. 

XXVII 

Now eve, with western shadows long, 
Floated on Katrine bright and strong, 660 

When Roderick with a chosen few 
Repassed the heights of Benvenue. 
Above the Goblin cave they ^o. 
Through the wild pass of Beal-nam-bo; 
The prompt retainers speed before, 665 

To launch the shallop from the shore. 
For 'cross Loch Katrine lies his way 
To view the passes of Achray, 
And place his clansmen in array. 
Yet lags the Chief in musing mind, 670 

Unwonted sight, his men behind. 
A single page, to bear his sword, 
Alone attended on his lord; 
The rest their way through thickets break, 
And soon await him by the lake. 675 

It was a fair and gallant sight, 
Tof view them from the neighboring height, 
By the low-levelled sunbeam's light ! 
For strength and stature, from the clan 
Each warrior was a chosen man 680 

As even afar might well be seen. 
By their proud step and martial mien. 
Their feathers dance, their tartans float, 
Their targets gleam, as by the boat 
104 



Lady of the Lake 

A wild and warlike group they stand, 685 

That well became such mountain-strand. 



XXVIII 

Their Chief with step reluctant still 

Was lingering on the cragg}'^ hill, 

Hard by where turned apart the road 

To Douglas's obscure abode. 690 

It was but with that dawning morn 

That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn 

To drown his love in war's wild roar. 

Nor think of Ellen Douglas more ; 

But he who stems a stream with sand, 695 

And fetters flame with flaxen band. 

Has yet a harder task to prove, — 

By firm resolve to conquer love ! 

Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost, 

Still hovering near his treasure lost ; 700 

For though his haughty heart deny 

A parting meeting to his eye. 

Still fondly strains his anxious ear 

The accents of her voice to hear, 

And inly did he curse the breeze 705 

That waked to sound the rustling trees. 

But hark ! what mingles in the strain ? 

It is the harp of Allan-bane, 

That wakes its measure slow and high, 

Attuned to sacred minstrelsy. 710 

What melting voice attends the strings ? 

'T is Ellen, or an angel, sings. 

XXIX 
HYMN TO THE VIRGIN 

Ave Maria ! maiden mild ! 
Listen to a maiden's prayer! 
105 



Lady of the Lake 

Thou canst hear though from the wild, 715 

Thou canst save amid despair. 
Safe may we sleep beneath thy care, 

Though banished, outcast, and reviled — 
Maiden ! hear a maiden's prayer ; 

Mother, hear a suppliant child ! 720 

Ave Maria! 

Ave Maria! undefiled! 

The flinty couch we now must share 
Shall seem with down of eider piled. 

If thy protection hover there. 
The murky cavern's heavy air 

Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled ; 725 

Then, Maiden ! hear a maiden's prayer, 

Mother, list a suppliant child! 

Ave Maria! 

Ave Maria! stainless styled ! 

Foul demons of the earth and air, 730 

From this their wonted haunt exiled. 

Shall flee before thy presence fair. 
We bow us to our lot of care. 

Beneath thy guidance reconciled : 
Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer, 735 

And for a father hear a child ! 

Ave Maria! 



XXX 

Died on the harp the closing hymn, — 
Unmoved in attitude and limb, 
As listening still, Clan-Alpine's lord 
Stood leaning on his heavy sword, 740 

Until the page with humble sign , 
Twice pointed to the sun's decline. 
106 






Lady of the Lake 

Then while his plaid he round him cast, 

" It is the last time — 't is the last," 

He muttered thrice, — " the last time e'er 745 

That angel-voice shall Roderick hear ! " 

It was a goading thought, — his stride 

Hied hastier down the mountain-side ; 

Sullen he flung him in the boat, 

An instant 'cross the lake it shot. 750 

They landed in that silvery bay. 

And eastward held their hasty way, 

Till, vvrith the latest beams of light, 

The band arrived on Lanrick height. 

Where mustered in the vale below 755 

Clan-Alpine's men in martial show. 



XXXI 

A various scene the clansmen made : 
Some sat, some stood, some slowly strayed, 
But most, with mantles folded round, 
Were couched to rest upon the ground, 760 

Scarce to be known by curious eye 
From the deep heather where they lie, 
So well was matched the tartan screen 
With heath-bell dark and brackens green; 
Unless where, here and there, a blade 765 

Or lance's point a glimmer made. 
Like glow-worm twinkling through the shade. 
But when, advancing through the gloom, 
They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume, 
Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, 770 

Shook the steep mountain's steady side. 
Thrice it arose, and lake and fell. 
Three times returned the martial yell ; 
It died upon Bochastle's plain. 

And Silence claimed her evening reign. 775 

107 



CANTO FOURTH 



THE PROPHECY 



I 

" The rose is fairest when 't is budding new, 

And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears ; 
The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew, 

And love is loveHest when embalmed in tears. 
O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears, 5 

I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave, 
Emblem of hope and love through future years ! " 

Thus spoke young Norman, heir of Armandave, 
What time the sun arose on Vennachar's broad wave. 

II 

Such fond conceit, half said, half sung, lO 

Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue. 
All while he stripped the wild-rose spray. 
His ax and bow beside him lay. 
For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood 
A wakeful sentinel he stood. 15 

Hark ! — on the rock a footstep rung, 
And instant to his arms he sprung. - 
" Stand, or thoii diest ! — What, Malise ? — soon 
Art thou returned from Braes of Doune. 
By thy keen step and glance I know, 20 

Thou bring'st us tidings of the foe." — 
For while the Fiery Cross hied on, 
On distant scout had Malise gone. — 
" Where sleeps the Chief ? " the henchman said. 
" Apart, in yonder misty glade ; 25 

To his lone couch I'll be your guide." — 
Then called a slumberer by his side, 
108 



Lady of the Lake 

And stirred him with his slackened bow, — 

" Up, up, Glentarkin ! rouse thee, ho ! 

We seek the Chieftain ; on the track 30 

Keep eagle watch till I come back." 

Ill 
Together up the pass they sped : 
" What of the f oeman ? " Norman said. — 
" Varying reports from near and far; 
This certain, — that a band of war 35 

Has for two days been ready boune. 
At prompt command to march from Doune ; 
King James the while, with princely powers, 
Holds revelry in Stirling towers. 
Soon will this dark and gathering cloud 40 

Speak on our glens in thunder loud. 
Inured to bide such bitter bout. 
The warrior's plaid may bear it out ; 
But Norman, how wilt thou provide 
A shelter for thy bonny bride ? " — 45 

" What ! know ye not that Roderick's care 
To the lone isle hath caused repair 
Each maid and matron of the clan, 
And every child and aged man 

Unfit for arms ; and given his charge, 50 

Nor skiff nor shallop, boat nor barge. 
Upon these lakes shall float at large. 
But all beside the islet moor. 
That such dear pledge may rest secure ? " — 

IV 

" 'T is well advised, — The Chieftain's plan 55 

Bespeaks the father of his clan. 
But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu 
Apart from all his followers true? " 
109 



Lady of the Lake 

" It is because last evening-tide 

Brian an augury hath tried, 

Of that dread kind which must not be 

Unless in dread extremity, 

The Taghairm called ; by which, afar, 

Our sires foresaw the events of war. 

Duncraggan's milk-white bull they slew," — 

MALISE 

" Ah ! well the gallant brute I knew ! 
The choicest of the prey we had 
When swept our merrymen Gallangad. 
His hide was snow, his horns were dark, 
His red eye glowed like fiery spark ; 
So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet, 
Sore did he cumber our retreat, 
And kept our stoutest kerns in awe, 
Even at the pass of Beal 'maha. 
But steep and flinty was the road, 
And sharp the hurrying pikeman's goad, 
And when we came to Dennan's Row 
A child might scathless stroke his brow." 



NORMAN 

** That bull was slain ; his reeking hide 
They stretched the cataract beside. 
Whose waters their wild tumult toss 
Adown the black and craggy boss 
Of that huge cliff whose ample verge 
Tradition calls the Hero's Targe 
Couched on a shelf beneath its brink. 
Close where the thundering torrents sink, 
Rocking beneath their headlong sway, 
no 



Lady of the Lake 

And drizzled by the ceaseless spray, 

Midst groan of rock and roar of stream, 

The wizard waits prophetic dream. 90 

Nor distant rests the Chief ; — but hush ! 

See, gliding slow through mist and bush, 

The hermit gains yon rock, and stands 

To gaze upon our slumbering bands. 

Seems he not, Malise, like a. ghost, 95 

That hovers o'er a slaughtered host? 

Or raven on the blasted oak, 

That, watching while the deer is broke, 

His morsel claims with sullen croak ? " 

MALISE 

" Peace ! peace ! to other than to me 100 

Thy words were evil augury; 

But still I hold Sir Roderick's blade 

Clan-Alpine's omen and her aid. 

Not aught that, gleaned from heaven or hell, 

You fiend-begotten Monk can tell. 105 

The Chieftain joins him, see — and now 

Together they descend the brow." 

VI 

And, as they came, with Alpine's Lord 
The Hermit Monk held solemn word : — 
"Roderick! it is a fearful strife, no 

For man endowed with mortal life. 
Whose shroud of sentient clay can still 
Feel feverish pang and fainting chill. 
Whose eye can stare in stony trance. 
Whose hair can rouse like warrior's lance, — 115 
'Tis hard for such to view, unfurled, 
The curtain of the future world. 
Yet, witness every quaking limb, 
My sunken pulse, mine eyeballs dim, 
III 



Lady of the Lake 

My soul with harrowing anguish torn, 120 

This for my Chieftain have I borne ! — 

The shapes that sought my fearful couch 

A human tongue may ne'er avouch ; 

No mortal man — save he, who, bred 

Between the living and the dead, 125 

Is gifted beyond nature's law — 

Had e'er survived to say he saw. 

At length the fateful answer came 

In characters of living flame ! 

Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll, 130 

But borne and branded on my soul : — 

Which spills the foremost foeman's life, 

That party conquers in the strife." 



VII 



" Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care ! 
Good is thine augury, and fair. 135 

Clan-Alpine ne'er in battle stood 
But first our broadswords tasted blood. 
A surer victim still I know. 
Self-offered to the auspicious blow : 
A spy has sought my land this mom, — 140 

No eve shall witness his return ! 
My followers guard each pass's mouth, 
To east, to westward, and to south ; 
Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide, 
Has charge to lead his steps aside, 145 

Till in deep path or dingle brown 
He light on those shall bring him down. — 
But see, who comes his news to show ! 
Malise! what tidings of the foe? " 
112 



Lady of the Lake 

VIII 

" At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive 150 

Two Barons proud their banners wave. 
I saw the Moray's silver star, 
And marked the sable pale of Mar." 
"'By Alpine's soul, high tidings those! 
I love to hear of worthy foes. 155 

When move they on ? " " To-morrow's noon 
Will see them here for battle boune." 
" Then shall it see a meeting stern ! 
But, for the place, — say, couldst thou learn 
Nought of the friendly clans of Earn? 160 

Strengthened by them, we well might bide 
The battle on Benledi's side. 
Thou couldst not ? — well ! Clan-Alpine's men 
Shall man the Trosachs' shaggy glen ; 
^ Within Loch Katrine's gorge we'll fight, 165 

All in our maids' and matrons' sight 
Each for his hearth and household fire, 
Father for child, and son for sire. 
Lover for maid beloved ! — But why — 
Is it the breeze affects mine eye ? 170 

Or dost thou come, ill-omened tear! 
A messenger of doubt or fear? 
No ! sooner may the Saxon lance 
Unfix Benledi from his stance, 

Than doubt or terror can pierce through 175 

The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu ! 
'T is stubborn as his trusty targe. 
Each to his post ! — all know their charge." 
The pibroch sounds, the bands advance. 
The broadswords gleam, the banners dance, 180 

Obedient to the Chieftain's glance. — 
I turn me from the martial roar. 
And seek Coir-Uriskin once more. 
8 113 



Lady of the Lake 

IX 

Where is the Douglas? — he is gone ; 

And Ellen sits on the gray stone 185 

Fast by the cave, and makes her moan, 

While vainly Allan's words of cheer 

Are poured on her unheeding ear. 

*' He will return — dear lady, trust ! — 

With joy return ; — he will — he must. 190 

Well was it time to seek afar 

Some refuge from impending war, 

When e'en Clan-Alpine's rugged swarm 

Are cowed by the approaching storm. 

I saw their boats with many a light 195 

Floating the livelong yesternight, 

Shifting like flashes darted forth 

By the red streamers of the north ; 

I marked at morn how close they ride, 

Thick moored by the lone islet's side, 200 

Like wild ducks couching in the fen 

When stoops the hawk upon the glen. 

Since this rude race dare not abide 

The peril on the mainland side, 

Shall not thy noble father's care 205 

Some safe retreat for thee prepare?" 



ELLEN 

" No, Allan, no ! Pretext so kind 
My wakeful terrors could not blind. 
When in such tender tone, yet grave, 
Douglas a parting blessing gave, 210 

The tear that glistened in his eye 
Drowned not his purpose fixed and high. 
My soul, though feminine and weak, 
Can image his ; e'en as the lake, 
114 



Lady of the Lake 

Itself disturbed by slightest stroke, 215 

Reflects the invulnerable rock. 

He hears report of battle rife, 

He deems himself the cause of strife. 

I saw him redden when the theme 

Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream 220 

Of Malcolm Graeme in fetters bound. 

Which I, thou saidst, about him wound. 

Think'st thou he trowed thine omen aught ? 

O no ! 'twas apprehensive thought 

For the kind youth, — for Roderick too — 225 

Let me be just — that friend so true; 

In danger both, and in our cause ! 

Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause. 

Why else that solemn warning given, 

* If not on earth, w^e meet in heaven ! ' 230 

Why else, to Cambus-kenneth's fane, 

If eve return him not again. 

Am I to hie and make me known ? 

Alas ! he goes to Scotland's throne. 

Buys his friends' safety with his own ; 235 

He goes to do — what I had done, 

Had Douglas's daughter been his son ! " 

XI 

** Nay, lovely Ellen ! — dearest, nay ! 
If aught should his return delay, 

He only named yon holy fane 240 

As fitting place to meet again. 
Be sure he's safe ; and for the Graeme, — 
Heaven's blessing on his gallant name ! — 
My visioned sight may yet prove true. 
Nor bode of ill to him or you. 245 

When did my gifted dream beguile? 
Think of the stranger at the isle, 
And think upon the harpings slow 
115 



Lady of the Lake 

That presaged this approaching woe ! 

Sooth was my prophecy of fear ; 250 

Believe it when it augurs cheer. 

Would we had left this dismal spot ! 

Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot. 

Of such a wondrous tale I know — 

Dear lady, change that look of woe, 255 

My harp was wont thy grief to cheer." 

ELLEN 

" Well, be it as thou wilt ; I hear. 

But cannot stop the bursting tear." 

The Minstrel tried his simple art, 

But distant far was Ellen's heart. 260 



XII 

BALLAD 
ALICE BRAND 

Merry it is in the good greenwood, 
When the mavis and merle are singing, 

When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in 
cry. 
And the hunter's horn is ringing. 

" O Alice Brand, my native land 265 

Is lost for love of you ; 
And we must hold by wood and wold. 

As outlaws wont to do. 

" O Alice, 't was all for thy locks so bright, 

And 't was all for thine eyes so blue, 270 

That on the night of our luckless flight 
Thy brother bold I slew. 
116 



Lady of the Lake 

" Now must I teach to hew the beech 

The hand that held the glaive, 
For leaves to spread our lowly bed, 275 

And stakes to fence our cave. 

" And for vest of pall, thy fingers small, 

That wont on harp to stray, 
A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deer, 

To keep the cold away." 280 

" O Richard ! if my brother died, 

'Twas but a fatal chance ; 
For darkling was the battle tried, 

And fortune sped the lance. 

" If pall and vair no more 1 wear, 285 

Nor thou the crimson sheen. 
As warm, we'll say, is the russet gray, 

As gay the forest-green. 

" And, Richard, if our lot be hard, 

And lost thy native land, 290 

Still Alice has her own Richard, 

And he his Alice Brand." 



xin 

BALLAD CONTINUED 

'T is merry, 't is merry, in good greenwood ; 

So blithe Lady Alice is singing; 
On the beech's pride, and oak's brown side, 295 

Lord Richard's ax is ringing. 

Up spoke the moody Elfin King, 

Who woned within the hill, — 
Like wind in the porch of a ruined church, 

His voice was ghostly shrill. 300 

117 



Lady of the Lake 

'' Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak, 

Our moonHght circle's screen? 
Or who comes here to chase the deer, 

Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? 
Or who may dare on wold to wear 305 

The fairies' fatal green? 

" Up, Urgan, up ! to yon mortal hie, 

For thou wert christened man ; 
For cross or sign thou wilt not fly, 

For muttered word or ban. 310 

" Lay on him the curse of the withered heart, 

The curse of the sleepless eye ; 
Till he wish and pray that his life would part. 

Nor yet find leave to die." 



XIV 



BALLAD CONTINUED 

'T is merry, 't is merry in good greenwood, 315 
Though the birds have stilled their singing ; 

The evening blaze doth Alice raise. 
And Richard is fagots bringing. 

Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf. 

Before Lord Richard stands, 320 

And, as he crossed and blessed himself, 
*' I fear not sign," quoth the grisly elf, 

" That is made with bloody hands." 

But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 

That woman void of fear, — 325 

" And if there's blood upon his hand, 

'T is but the blood of deer." 
118 



Lady of the Lake 

" Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood ! 

It cleaves unto his hand, 
The stain of thine own kindly blood, 330 

The blood of Ethert Brand." 

Then forward stepped she, Alice Brand, 

And made the holy sign, — 
" And if there's blood on Richard's hand, 

A spotless hand is mine. 335 

" And I conjure thee, demon elf, 

By Him whom demons fear, 
To show us whence thou art thyself, 

And what thine errand here ? " 

XV 
BALLAD CONTINUED 

" 'T is merry, 't is merry, in Fairy-land, 340 

^When fairy birds are singing, 
When the court doth ride by their monarch's side, 

With bit and bridle ringing: 

" And gaily shines the Fairy-land — 

But all is glistening show, 345 

Like the idle gleam that December's beam 

Can dart on ice and snow. 

" And fading, like that varied gleam, 

Is our inconstant shape. 
Who now like knight and lady seem, 350 

And now like dwarf and ape. 

" It was between the night and day, 

When the Fairy King has power. 
That I sunk down in a sinful fray, 
And 'twixt life and death was snatched away 355 

To the joyless Elfin bower. 
119 



Lady of the Lake 

" But wist I of a woman bold, 

Who thrice my brow durst sign, 
I might regain my mortal mould, 

As fair a form as thine." 366 

She crossed him once — she crossed him twice — 

That lady was so brave ; 
The fouler grew his goblin hue, 

The darker grew the cave. 

She crossed him thrice, that lady bold ; 365 

He rose beneath her hand 
The fairest knight on Scottish mould, 

Her brother, Ethert Brand ! 

Merry it is in good greenwood, 

When the mavis and merle are singing, 370 

But merrier were they in Dunfermline gray, 

When all the bells were ringing. 



XVI 

Just as the minstrel sounds were stayed, 
A stranger climbed the steepy glade ; 
His martial step, his stately mien, 375 

His hunting-suit of Lincoln green, 
His eagle glance, remembrance claims — 
'T is Snowdoun's Knight, 't is James Fitz-James. 
Ellen beheld as in a dream, 

Then, starting, scarce suppressed a scream : 380 

" O stranger ! in such hour of fear 
What evil hap has brought thee here ? " 
" An evil hap how can it be 
That bids me look again on thee? 
By promise bound, my former guide 385 

Met me betimes this morning-tide, 
And marshalled over bank and bourne 
120 



Lady of the Lake 

The happy path of my return." 

** The happy path ! — what ! said he naught 

Of war, of battle to be fought, 390 

Of guarded pass ? " " No, by my faith ! 

Nor saw I aught could augur scathe." 

" O haste thee, Allan, to the kern : 

Yonder his tartans I discern ; 

Learn thou his purpose, and conjure 395 

That he will guide the stranger sure ! — 

What prompted thee, unhappy man ? 

The meanest serf in Roderick's clan 

Had not been bribed, by love or fear 

Unknown to him to guide thee here." 400 



XVII 

*' Sweet Ellen, dear my life must be, 
Since it is worthy care from thee ; 
Yet life I hold but idle breath 
When love or honor's weighed with death. 
Then let me profit by my chance, 405 

And speak my purpose bold at once. 
I come to hear thee from a wild 
Where ne'er before such blossom smiled, 
By this soft hand to lead thee far 
From frantic scenes of feud and war. 410 

Near Bochastle my horses wait ; 
They bear us soon to Stirling gate. 
I'll place thee in a lovely bower, 
I'll guard thee like a tender flower — " 
*' O hush, Sir Knight, 't were female art, 415 

To say I do not read thy heart ; 
Too much, before, my ^Ifish ear 
Was idly soothed my praise to hear. 
That fatal bait hath lured thee back, 
In deathf ul hour, o'er dangerous track ; 420 

121 



Lady of the Lake 

And how, O how, can I atone 

The wreck my vanity" brought on ! — 

One way remains — I'll tell him all — 

Yes ! struggling bosom, forth it shall ! 

Thou, whose light folly bears the blame, 425 

Buy thine own pardon with thy shame! 

But first — my father is a man 

Outlawed and exiled, under ban ; 

The price of blood is on his head, 

With me 't were infamy to wed. 430 

Still wouldst thou speak ? — then hear the truth ! 

Fitz-James, there is a noble youth — 

If yet he is ! — exposed for me 

And mine to dread extremity — 

Thou hast the secret of my heart ; 435 

Forgive, be generous, and depart ! " 

XVIII 

Fitz-James knew every wily train 
A lady's fickle heart to gain. 
But here he knew and felt them vain. 
There shot no glance from Ellen's eye, 440 

To give her steadfast speech the lie ; 
In maiden confidence she stood, 
Though mantled in her cheek the blood, 
And told her love with such a sigh 
Of deep and hopeless agony, 445 

As death had sealed her Malcolm's doom 
And she sat sorrowing on his tomb. 
Hope vanished from Fitz-James's eye, 
But not with hope fled sympathy. 
He proffered to attend her side, 450 

As brother would a sister guide. 
" O little know'st thou Roderick's heart ! 
Safer for both we go apart. 
122 



Lady of the Lake 

O haste thee, and from Allan learn, 

If thou mayst trust yon wily kern." 455 

With hand upon his forehead laid, 

The conflict of his mind to shade, 

A parting step or two he made ; 

Then, as some thought had crossed his brain, 

He paused, and turned, and came again. 460 

XIX 

" Hear, lady, yet a parting word ! — 
It chanced in fight that my poor sword 
Preserved the life of Scotland's lord. 
This ring the grateful Monarch gave, 
And bade, when I had boon to crave, 465 

To bring it back, and boldly claim 
The recompense that I would name. 
Ellen, I am no courtly lord, 
But one who lives by lance and sword, 
Whose castle is his helm and shield, 470 

His lordship the embattled field. 
What from a prince can I demand. 
Who neither reck of state nor land? 
Ellen, thy hand — the ring is thine ; 
Each guard and usher knows the sign. 475 

Seek thou the King without delay ; 
This signet shall secure thy way : 
And claim thy suit, whate'er it be. 
As ransom of his pledge to me." 
He placed the golden circlet on, 48J 

Paused — kissed her hand — and then was gone. 
The aged Minstrel stood aghast, 
So hastily Fitz-James shot past. 
He joined his guide, and wending down 
The ridges of the mountain brown, 485 

Across the stream they took their way 
That joins Loch Katrine to Achray. 
123 



Lady of the Lake 

XX 

All in the Trosachs' glen was still, 

Noontide was sleeping on the hill : 

Sudden his guide whooped loud and high — 490 

" Murdoch ! was that a signal cry? " — 

He stammered forth, " I shout to scare 

Yon raven from his dainty fare." 

He looked — he knew the raven's prey, 

His own brave steed : *' Ah ! gallant gray ! 495 

For thee — for me, perchance — 'twere well 

We ne'er had seen the Trosachs' dell. — 

Murdoch, move first — but silently ; 

Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die ! " 

Jealous and sullen on they fared, 500 

Each silent, each upon his guard. 



XXI 

Now wound the path its dizzy ledge 
Around a precipice's edge. 
When lo ! a wasted female form, 
Blighted by wrath of sun and storm, 505 

In tattered weeds and wild array. 
Stood on a cliff beside the way. 
And, glancing round her restless eye, 
Upon the wood, the rock, the sky, 
Seemed naught to mark, yet all to spy. 510 

Her brow was wreathed with gaudy broom ; 
With gesture wild she waved a plume 
Of feathers, which the eagles fling 
To crag and cliff from dusky wing; 
Such spoils her desperate step had sought, 515 

Where scarce was footing for the goat. 
The tartan plaid she first descried, 
And shrieked till all the rocks replied ; 
As loud she laughed when near they drew, 
124 



Lady of the Lake 

For then the Lowland garb she knew ; 520 

And then her hands she wildly wrung, 

And then she wept, and then she sung — 

She sung! — the voice in better time, 

Perchance to harp or lute might chime ; 

And now, though strained and roughened, still 525 

Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill. 

XXII 
SONG 

They bid me sleep, they bid me pray. 

They say my brain is warped and wrung — 

I cannot sleep on Highland brae, 

I cannot pray in Highland tongue. 530 

But were I now where Allan glides, 

Or heard my native Devan's tides, 

So sweetly would I rest, and pray 

That Heaven would close my wintry day! 

'Twas thus my hair they bade me braid, 535 

They made me to the church repair; 

It was my bridal morn, they said, 
And my true love would meet me there. 

But woe betide the cruel guile 

That drowned in blood the morning smile ! 540 

And woe betide the fairy dream ! 

I only waked to sob and scream. 

XXIII 

" Who is this maid ? what means her lay ? 
She hovers o'er the hollow way, 
And flutters wide her mantle gray, 545 

As the lone heron spreads his wing, 
By twilight, o'er a haunted spring." 
125 



Lady of the Lake 

" 'Tis Blanche of Devan," Murdoch said, 

'* A crazed and captive Lowland maid, 

Ta'en on the morn she was a bride, 550 

When Roderick forayed Devan-side. 

The gay bridegroom resistance made, 

And felt our Chief's unconquered blade. 

I marvel she is now at large, 

But oft she 'scapes from Maudlin's charge. — 555 

Hence, brain-sick fool ! " — He raised his bow : — 

" Now, if thou strik'st her but one blow, 

I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far 

As ever peasant pitched a bar ! " 

" Thanks, champion, thanks ! " the Maniac cried, 560 

And pressed her to Fitz-James's side. 

" See the gray pennons I prepare, 

To' seek my true love through the air ! 

I will not lend that savage groom. 

To break his fall, one downy plume I 565 

No ! — deep amid disjointed stones. 

The wolves shall batten on his bones, 

And then shall his detested plaid, 

By bush and brier in mid-air stayed, 

Wave forth a banner fair and free, 570 

Meet signal for their revelry." 

XXIV 

" Hush thee, poor maiden, and be still ! " 

" O ! thou look'st kindly, and I will. 

Mine eye has dried and wasted been, 

But still it loves the Lincoln green ; 575 

And, though mine ear is all unstrung, 

Still, still it loves the Lowland tongue. 

For O my sweet William was forester true, 

He stole poor Blanche's heart away ! 
His coat it was all of the greenwood hue, 580 

And so blithely he trilled the Lowland lay ! 
.126 



Lady of the Lake 

" It was not that I meant to tell . . . 

But thou art wise and guessest well." 

Then, in a low and broken tone, 

And hurried note, the song went on. 585 

Still on the Clansman fearfully 

She fixed her apprehensive eye, 

Then turned it on the Knight, and then 

Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen. 

XXV 

" The toils are pitched, and the stakes are set, — 590 

Ever sing merrily, merrily ; 
The bows they bend, and the knives they whet. 

Hunters live so cheerily. 

" It was a stag, a stag of ten. 

Bearing its branches sturdily ; 595 

He came stately down the glen, — 

Ever sing hardily, hardily. 

It was there he met with a wounded doe, 

She was bleeding deathf ully ; 
She warned him of the toils below, 600 

O, so faithfully, faithfully ! 

*' He had an eye, and he could heed, — 

Ever sing warily, warily ; 
He had a foot, and he could speed, — 

Hunters watch so narrowly." 605 

XXVI 

Fitz -James's mind was passion-tossed. 
When Ellen's hints and fears were lost ; 
But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrought, 
And Blanche's song conviction brought. 
127 



Lady of the Lake 

Not like a stag that spies the snare, 6io 

But Hon of the hunt aware, 

He waved at once his blade on high, 

" Disclose thy treachery, or die ! " 

Forth at full speed the Clansman flew, 

But in his race his bow he drew. 615 

The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest, 

And thrilled in Blanche's faded breast. — 

Murdoch of Alpine ! prove thy speed, 

For ne'er had Alpine's son such need ; 

With heart of fire, and foot of wind, 620 

The fierce avenger is behind ! 

Fate judges of the rapid strife — 

The forfeit death — the prize is life ; 

Thy kindred ambush lies before, 

Close couched upon the heathery moor ; 625 

Them couldst thou reach ! — it may not be — 

Thine ambushed kin thou ne'er shalt see, * 

The fiery Saxon gains on thee ! — 

Resistless speeds the deadly thrust, 

As lightning strikes the pine to dust ; 630 

With foot and hand Fitz-James must strain 

Ere he can win his blade again. 

Bent o'er the fallen with falcon eye, 

He grimly smiled to see him die, 

Then slower wended back his way, 635 

Where the poor maiden bleeding lay. 

xxvii 
She sat beneath the birchen tree. 
Her elbow resting on her knee; 
She had withdrawn the fatal shaft. 
And gazed on it, and feebly laughed ; 640 

Her wreath of broom and feathers gray, 
Daggled with blood, beside her lay. 
The Knight to stanch the life-stream tried, — 
128 



Lady of the Lake 

" Stranger, it is in vain ! " she cried. 

" This hour of death has given me more 645 

Of reason's powder than years before ; 

For, as these ebbing veins decay, 

My frenzied visions fade away. 

A helpless injured wretch I die, 

And something tells me in thine eye 650 

That thou wert mine avenger born. 

Seest thou this tress? — O, still I've worn 

This little tress of yellow hair, 

Through danger, frenzy, and despair I 

It once was bright and clear as thine, 655 

But blood and tears have dimmed its shine. 

I will not tell thee when 't was shred. 

Nor from what guiltless victim's head, — 

My brain would turn ! — but it shall wave 

Like plumage on thy helmet brave, 660 

Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain, 

And thou wilt bring it me again. 

I waver still. — O God ! more bright 

Let reason beam her parting light! — 

O, by thy knighthood's honored sign, 665 

And for thy life preserved by mine, 

When thou shalt see a darksome man, 

Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's Clan, 

With tartans broad and shadowy plume. 

And hand of blood, and brow of gloom, 670 

Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong. 

And wreak poor Blanche of Devan's wrong ! — 

They watch for thee by pass and fell . . . 

Avoid the path . . . 0*God! . . . farewell." 

XXVIII 

A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James ; 675 

Fast poured his eyes at pity's claims ; 
And now, with mingled grief and ire, 
9 129 



Lady of the Lake 

He saw the murdered maid expire. 
" God, in my need, be my relief, 

As I wreak this on yonder Chief ! " 680 

A lock from Blanche's tresses fair 
He blended with her bridegroom's hair ; 
The mingled braid in blood he dyed. 
And placed it on his bonnet-side : 
" By Him whose word is truth, I swear, 685 

No other favor will I wear. 
Till this sad token I imbrue 
In the best blood of Roderick Dhu ! — 
But hark ! what means yon faint halloo ? 
The chase is up, — but they shall know, 690 

The stag at bay's a dangerous foe." 
Barred from the known but guarded way, 
Through copse and clififs Fitz-James must stray, 
And oft must change his desperate track, 
By stream and precipice turned back. 695 

Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length. 
From lack of food and loss of strength. 
He couched him in a thicket hoar. 
And thought his toils and perils o'er : — 
" Of all my rash adventures past, 700 

This frantic feat must prove the last! 
Who e'er so mad but might have guessed 
That all this Highland hornet's nest. 
Would muster up in swarms so soon 
As e'er they heard of bands at Doune ? — 705 

Like bloodhounds now they search me out, — 
Hark, to the whistle and 'the shout! — 
If farther through the wilds I go, 
I only fall upon the f oe : 

I'll couch me here till evening gray, 710 

Then darkling try my dangerous way." 
130 



Lady of the Lake 



XXIX 



The shades of eve come slowly down, 

The woods are wrapt in deeper brown, 

The owl awakens from her dell, 

The fox is heard upon the fell; 71 5 

Enough remains of glimmering light 

To guide the wanderer's steps aright, 

Yet not enough from far to show 

His figure to the watchful foe. 

With cautious step and ear awake, 720 

He climbs the crag and threads the brake ; 

And not the summer solstice there 

Tempered the midnight mountain air, 

But every breeze that swept the wold 

Benumbed his drenched limbs with cold. 725 

In dread, in danger, and alone, 

Famished and chilled, through ways unknown, 

Tangled and steep, he journeyed on; 

Till, as a rock's huge point he turned, 

A watch-fire close before him burned. 730 



XXX 

Beside its embers red and clear, 
Basked in his plaid a mountaineer; 
And up he sprung with sword in hand, — 
" Thy name and purpose ! Saxon, stand ! " 
" A stranger." " What dost thou require? " 735 

'' Rest and a guide, and food and fire. 
My life's beset, my path is lost, 
The gale has chilled my limbs with frost." 
" Art thou a friend to Roderick ? " " No." 
" Thou dar'st not call thyself a foe? " 740 

" I dare ! to him and all the band 
He brings to aid his murderous hand," 
131 



Lady of the Lake 

" Bold words ! — but, though the beast of game 

The privilege of chase may claim, 

Though space and law the stag we lend, 745 

Ere hound we slip or bow we bend, 

Who ever recked, where, how, or when. 

The prowling fox was trapped or slain? 

Thus treacherous scouts, — yet sure they lie, 

Who say thou cam'st a secret spy !" — 750 

*' They do, by heaven ! — come Roderick Dhu, 

And of his clan the boldest two, 

And let me but till morning rest, 

I write the falsehood on their crest." 

" If by the blaze I mark aright, 755 

Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight." 

'* Then by these tokens mayst thou know 

Each proud oppressor's mortal foe." 

" Enough, enough ; sit down and share 

A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare." 760 



XXXI 

He gave him of his Highland cheer. 
The hardened flesh of mountain deer; 
Dry fuel on the fire he laid, 
And bade the Saxon share his plaid. 
He tended him like welcome guest, 765 

Then thus his further speech addressed: — 
" Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu 
A clansman born, a kinsman true; 
Each word against his honor spoke 
Demands of me avenging stroke ; 770 

Yet more, — ^upon thy fate, 't is said, 
A mighty augury is laid. 
It rests with me to wind my horn, — 
Thou art with numbers overborne; 
It rests with me, here, brand to brand, 775 

132 



Lady of the Lake 

Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand : 

But, not for clan, nor kindred's cause, 

Will I depart from honor's laws; 

To assail a wearied man were shame; 

A stranger is a holy name; 780 

Guidance and rest, and food and fire, 

In vain he never must require. 

Then rest thee here till dawn of day ; 

Myself will guide thee on the way, 

O'er stock and stone, through watch and ward, 785 

Till past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard, 

As far as Coilantogle's ford; 

From thence thy warrant is thy sword." 

" I take thy courtesy, by heaven. 

As freely as 'tis nobly given ! " 790 

" Well, rest thee ; for the bittern's cry 

Sings as the lake's wild lullaby." 

With that he shook the gathered heath, 

And spread his plaid upon the wreath ; 

And the brave foemen, side by side, 795 

Lay peaceful down like brothers tried. 

And slept until the dawning beam 

Purpled the mountain and the stream. 



133 



CANTO FIFTH 

THE COMBAT 
I 

Fair as the earliest beam of eastern light, 

When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied, 
It smiles upon the dreary brow of night, 

And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming tide, 
And lights the fearful path on mountain-side, — 5 

Fair as that beam, although the fairest far. 
Giving to horror grace, to danger pride, 

Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star, 
Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow 
of War. 

II 

That early beam, so fair and sheen, lo 

Was twinkling through the hazel screen, 
When, rousing at its glimmer red. 
The warriors left their lowly bed. 
Looked out upon the dappled sky, 
Muttered their soldier matins by, 15 

And then awaked their fire, to steal, 
As short and rude, their soldier meal. 
That o'er, the Gael around him threw 
His graceful plaid of varied hue, 
And, true to promise, led the way, 20 

By thicket green and mountain gray. 
A wildering path ! — they winded now 
Along the precipice's brow. 
Commanding the rich scenes beneath. 
The windings of the Forth and Teith, 25 

And all the vales between that lie, 
Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky; 
134 



Lady of the Lake 

Then, sunk In copse, their farthest glance 

Gained not the length of horseman's lance. 

'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain 30 

Assistance from the hand to gain; 

So tangled oft that, bursting through, 

Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew, — 

That diamond dew, so pure and clear, 

It rivals all but Beauty's tear! 35 

III 

At length they came where, stern and steep, 
The hill sinks down upon the deep. 
Here Vennachar in silver flows. 
There, ridge on ridge, Benledi rose ; 
Ever the hollow path twined on, 40 

Beneath steep bank and threatening stone ; 
A hundred men might hold the post 
With hardihood against a host. 
The rugged mountain's scanty cloak 
Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak, 45 

With shingles bare, and cliffs between. 
And patches bright and bracken green- 
And heather black, that waved so high. 
It held the copse in rivalry. 

But where the lake slept deep and still, 50 

Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill; 
And oft both path and hill were torn. 
Where wintry torrent down had borne, 
And heaped upon the cumbered land 
Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand. 55 

So toilsome was the road to trace. 
The guide, abating of his pace. 
Led slowly through the pass's jaws. 
And asked Fitz-James by what strange cause 
He sought these wilds, traversed by few, 60 

Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. 
135 



Lady of the Lake 

IV 

" Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, 

Hangs in my belt and by my side ; 

Yet, sooth to tell," the Saxon said, 

" I dreamt not now to claim its aid. 65 

When here, but three days since, I came, 

Bewildered in pursuit of game. 

All seemed as peaceful and as still 

As the mist slumbering on yon hill ; 

Thy dangerous Chief was then afar, 70 

Nor soon expected back from war. 

Thus said, at least, my mountain-guide. 

Though deep perchance the villain lied." 

*' Yet why a second venture try ? " 

" A warrior thou, and ask me why ! — 75 

Moves our free course by such fixed cause 

As gives the poor mechanic laws? 

Enough, I sought to drive away 

The lazy hours of peaceful day; 

Slight cause will then suffice to guide 80 

A Knight's free footsteps far and wide, — 

A falcon flown, a greyhound strayed. 

The merry glance of mountain maid ; 

Or, if a path be dangerous known. 

The danger's self is lure alone." 85 



" Thy secret keep, I urge thee not ; — 
Yet, ere again ye sought this spot. 
Say, heard ye naught of Lowland war, 
Against Clan- Alpine, raised by Mar ? " 
'* No, by my word ; — of bands prepared 90 

To guard King James's sports I heard ; 
Nor doubt I aught, but, when they hear 
This muster of the mountaineer, 
136 



Lady of the Lake 

Their pennons will abroad be flung, 

Which else in Doune had peaceful hung." 95 

*' Free be they flung ; for we were loath 

Their silken folds should feast the moth. 

Free be they flung ! — as free shall wave 

Clan-Alpine's pine in banner brave. 

But, stranger, peaceful since you came, 100 

Bewildered in the mountain-game, 

Whence the bold boast by which you show 

Vich- Alpine's vowed and mortal foe ? " 

" Warrior, but yester-morn I knew 

Naught of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 105 

Save as an outward desperate man. 

The chief of a rebellious clan, 

Who, in the Regent'5 court and sight. 

With ruffian dagger stabbed a knight; 

Yet this alone might from his part no 

Sever each true and loyal heart." 

VI 

Wrathful at such arraignment foul. 
Dark lowered the clansman's sable scowl. 
A space he paused, then sternly said, 
" And heardst thou why he drew his blade? 115 

Heardst thou that shameful word and blow 
Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe ? 
What recked the Chieftain if he stood 
On Highland heath or Holy-Rood ? 
He rights such wrong where it is given, 120 

If it were in the court of heaven." 
" Still was it outrage ; — ^yet, 't is true, 
Not then claimed sovereignty his due; 
While Albany with feeble hand 

Held borrowed truncheon of command, 1 25 

The young King, mewed in Stirling tower, 
Was stranger to respect and power. 
137 



Lady of the Lake 

But then, thy Chieftain's robber Hf e ! — 
Winning mean prey by causeless strife, 
Wrenching from ruined Lowland swain 
His herds and harvest reared in vain, — 
Methinks a soul like thine should scorn 
The spoils from such foul foray borne." 

VII 

The Gael beheld him grim the while, 
And answered with disdainful smile : 
" Saxon, from yonder mountain high, 
I marked thee send delighted eye 
Far to the south and east, where lay. 
Extended in succession gay, 
Deep waving fields and pastures green. 
With gentle slopes and groves between : — 
These fertile plains, that softened vale, 
Were once the birthright of the Gael ; 
The stranger came with iron hand. 
And from our fathers reft the land. 
Where dwell we now? See, rudely swell 
Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. 
Ask we this savage hill we tread 
For fattened steer or household bread. 
Ask we for flocks these shingles dry. 
And well the mountain might reply, — 
* To you, as to your sires of yore. 
Belong the target and claymore ! 
I give you shelter in my breast ; 
Your own good blades must win the rest.' 
Pent in this fortress of the North, 
Think'st thou we will not sally forth. 
To spoil the spoiler as we may, 
And from the robber rend the prey? 
Ay, by my soul ! — While on yon plain 
The Saxon rears one shock of grain, 
138 



Lady of the Lake 

While of ten thousand herds there strays 

But one along yon river's maze, — 

The Gael, of plain and river heir, 

Shall with strong hand redeem his share. 165 

Where live the mountain Chiefs who hold 

That plundering Lowland field and fold 

Is aught but retribution true ? 

Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu." 

vni 
Answered Fitz-James : '* And, if I sought, 170 

Think'st thou no other could be brought ? 
What deem ye of my path waylaid ? • 

My life given o'er to ambuscade? " 
" As of a meed to rashness due : 

Hadst thou sent warning fair and true, — 175 

I seek my hound or falcon strayed, 
I seek, good faith, a Highland maid, — 
Free hadst thou been to come and go ; 
But secret path marks secret foe. 
Nor yet for this, even as a spy, 180 

Hadst thou, unheard, been doomed to die, 
Save to fulfil an augury." 
'* Well, let it pass ; nor will I now 
Fresh cause of enmity avow, 

To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow. 185 

Enough, I am by promise tied 
To match me with this man of pride : 
Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine's glen 
In peace ; but when I come again, 
I come with banner, brand, and bow, 190 

As leader seeks his mortal foe. 
For love-lorn swain in lady's bower 
Ne'er panted for the appointed hour, 
As I, until before me stand 
This rebel Chieftain and his band ! " 195 

139 



Lady of the Lake 

IX 

*' Have then thy wish ! " — He whistled shrill, 
And he was answered from the hill; 
Wild as the scream of the curlew, 
From crag to crag the signal flew. 
Instant, through copse and heath, arose 200 

Bonnets and spears and bended bows; 
On right, on left, above, below, 
Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; 
From shingles gray their lances start. 
The bracken bush sends forth the dart, 205 

The rushes and the willow-wand 
Are bristling into axe and brand. 
And every tuft of broom gives life 
To plaided warrior armed for strife. 
That whistle garrisoned the glen 210 

At once with full five hundred men, 
As if the yawning hill to heaven 
A subterranean host had given. 
Watching their leader's beck and will, 
All silent there they stood and still. 215 

Like the loose crags whose threatening mass 
Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, 
As if an infant's touch could urge 
Their headlong passage down the verge, 
With step and weapon forward flung, 220 

Upon the mountain-side they hung. 
The Mountaineer cast glance of pride 
Along Benledi's living side; 
Then fixed his eye and sable brow 
Full on Fitz-James : *' How say'st thou now ? 225 
These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true ; 
And, Saxon, — I am Roderick Dhu ! " 
140 



Lady of the Lake 

X 

Fitz- James was brave : — though to his heart 

The life-blood thrilled with sudden start. 

He manned himself with dauntless air, 230 

Returned the Chief his haughty stare. 

His back against a rock he bore, 

And firmly placed his foot before : — 

" Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly 

From its firm base as soon as I." 235 

Sir Roderick marked, — and in his eyes 

Respect was mingled with surprise, 

And the stern joy which warriors feel 

In foemen worthy of their steel. 

Short space he stood — then waved his hand : 240 

Down sunk the disappearing band ; 

Each warrior vanished where he stood, 

In broom or bracken, heath or wood ; 

Sunk brand and spear and bended bow, 

In osiers pale and copses low; 245 

It seemed as if their mother Earth 

Had swallowed up her warlike birth. 

The wind's last breath had tossed in air 

Pennon and plaid and plumage fair, — 

The next but swept a lone hillside, 250 

Where heath and fern were waving wide : 

The sun's last glance was glinted back 

From spear and glaive, from targe and jack, — 

The next, all unreflected, shone 

On bracken green and cold gray stone. 255 



XI 

Fitz-James looked round, — yet scarce believed 
The witness that his sight received ; 
Such apparition well might seem 
Delusion of a dreadful dream. 
141 



Lady of the Lake 

Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, 260 

And to his look the Chief replied: 
" Fear naught — nay, that I need not say — 
But — doubt not aught from mine array. 
Thou art my guest ; — I pledged my word 
As far as Coil^ntogle ford : 265 

Nor would I call a clansman's brand 
For aid against one valiant hand, 
Though on our strife lay every vale 
Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. 
So move we on ; — I only meant 270 

To show the reed on which you leant, 
Deeming this path you might pursue 
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu." 
They moved ; — I said Fitz-James was brave 
As ever knight that belted glaive, 275 

Yet dare not say that now his blood 
Kept on its wont and tempered flood. 
As, following Roderick's stride, he drew 
That seeming lonesome pathway through, 
Which yet by fearful proof was rife 280 

With lancers, that, to take his life, 
Waited but signal from a guide. 
So late dishonored and defied. 
Ever, by stealth, his eye sought round 
The vanished guardians of the ground, 285 

And still from copse and heather deep 
Fancy saw spear and broadsword peep, 
And in the plover's shrilly strain 
The signal whistle heard again. 

Nor breathed he free till far behind 290 

The pass was left ; for then they wind 
Along a wide and level green. 
Where neither tree nor tuft was seen, 
Nor rush nor bush of broom was near, 
To hide a bonnet or a spear. 295 

142 



Lady of the Lake 

XII 

The Chief in silence strode before, 

And reached that torrent's sounding shore, 

Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, 

From Vennachar in silver breaks, 

Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 300 

On Bochastle the mouldering lines, 

Where Rome, the Empress of the world, 

Of yore her eagle wings unfurled. 

And here his course the Chieftain stayed, 

Threw down his target and his plaid, 305 

And to the Lowland warrior said : 

" Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, 

Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. 

This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, 

This head of a rebellious clan, 310 

Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, 

Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. 

Now, man to man, and steel to steel, 

A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel. 

See, here all.vantageless I stand, 315 

Armed like thyself with single brand ; 

For this is Coilantogle ford, 

And thou must keep thee with thy sword.'* 

XIII 

The Saxon paused : " I ne'er delayed, 
When foeman bade me draw my blade; 320 

Nay, more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death : 
Yet sure thy fair and generous faith. 
And my deep debt for life preserved, 
A better meed have well deserved : 
Can naught but blood our feud atone ? 325 

Are there no means? " — ** No, stranger, none! 
And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — 
143 



Lady of the Lake 

The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ; 

For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred 

Between the Hving and the dead :' 330 

* Who spills the foremost foeman's life, 

His party conquers in the strife.' " 

" Then, by my word," the Saxon said, 

" The riddle is already read. 

Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — 335 

There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. 

Thus Fate hath solved her prophecy ; 

Then yield to Fate, and not to me. 

To James at Stirling let us go, 

When, if thou wilt be still his foe, 340 

Or if the King shall not agree 

To grant thee grace and favor free, 

I plight mine honor, oath, and word 

That, to thy native strength restored, 

With each advantage shalt thou stand 345 

That aids thee now to guard thy land." 

XIV 

Dark lightning flashed from Roderick's eye : 
" Soars thy presumption, then, so high. 
Because a wretched kern ye slew. 
Homage to name to Roderick Dhu? 350 

He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ! 
Thou add'st but fuel to my hate; — 
My clansman's blood demands revenge. 
Not yet prepared ? — By heaven, I change 
My thought, and hold thy valor light 355 

As that of some vain carpet knight. 
Who ill deserved my courteous care, 
And whose best boast is but to wear 
A braid of his fair lady's hair." 

*' I thank thee, Roderick, for the word ! 360 

It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; 
144 



Lady of the Lake 

For I have sworn this braid to stain 

In the best blood that warms thy vein. 

Now, truce, farewell ! and, ruth, begone ! — 

Yet think not that by thee alone, 365 

Proud Chief ! can courtesy be shown ; 

Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, 

Start at my whistle clansmen stern. 

Of this small horn one feeble blast 

Would fearful odds against thee cast. 370 

But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt — 

We try this quarrel hilt to hilt." 

Then each at once his falchion drew, 

Each on the ground his scabbard threw. 

Each looked to sun and stream and plain 375 

As what they ne'er might see again ; 

Then foot and point and eye opposed, 

In dubious strife they darkly closed. 



XV 

111 fared it then with Roderick Dhu, 
That on the field his targe he threw, 380 

Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide 
Had death so often dashed aside; 
For, trained abroad his arms to wield, 
Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. 
He practised every pass and ward, 385 

To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; 
While less expert, though stronger far, 
The Gael maintained unequal war. 
Three times in closing strife they stood. 
And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood ; 390 

No stinted draught, no scanty tide. 
The gushing flood the tartans dyed. 
Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, 
And showered his blows like wintry rain ; 
10 145 



Lady of the Lake 

And, as firm rock or castle-roof 395 

Against the winter shower is proof, 

The foe, invulnerable still, 

Foiled his wild rage by steady skill ; 

Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand 

Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand, 400 

And backward borne upon the lea, 

Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. 



XVI 

" Now yield thee, or by Him who made 
The world, thy heart's blood dyes my blade ! " 
" Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy ! 405 

Let recreant yield, who fears to die." 
Like adder darting from his coil, 
Like wolf that dashes through the toil, 
Like mountain-cat who guards her young, 
Full at Fitz- James's throat he sprung; 410 

Received, but recked not of a wound, 
•And locked his arms his foeman round. — 
Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own ! 
No maiden's hand is round thee thrown ! 
That desperate grasp thy frame might feel 415 

Through bars of brass and triple steel ! 
They tug, they strain ! down, down they go, 
The Gael above, Fitz-James below. 
The Chieftain's gripe his throat compressed. 
His knee was planted on his breast ; 420 

His clotted locks he backward threw, 
Across his brow his hand he drew. 
From blood and mist to clear his sight, 
Then gleamed aloft his dagger bright! 
But hate and fury ill supplied 425 

The stream of life's exhausted tide, 
And all too late the advantage came, 
146 



Lady of the Lake 

To turn the odds of deadly game ; 

For, while the dagger gleamed on high, 

Reeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye. 430 

Down came the blow ! but in the heath 

The erring blade found bloodless sheath. 

The struggling foe may now unclasp 

The fainting Chief's relaxing grasp; 

Unwounded from the dreadful close, 435 

But breathless all, Fitz-James arose. 



XVII 

He faltered thanks to Heaven for life, 
Redeemed, unhoped, from desperate strife; 
Next on his foe his look he cast, 
Whose every gasp appeared his last ; 440 

In Roderick's gore he dipped the braid, — 
" Poor Blanche ! thy wrongs are dearly paid : 
Yet with thy foe must die, or live, 
The praise that faith and valor give.'* 
With that he blew a bugle note, 445 

Undid the collar from his throat, 
Unbonneted, and by the wave 
Sat down his brow and hands to lave. 
Then faint afar are heard the feet 
Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet ; 450 

The sounds increase, and now are seen 
Four mounted squires in Lincoln green; 
Two who bear lance, and two who lead 
By loosened rein a saddled steed ; 
Each onward held his headlong course, 455 

And by Fitz-James reined up his horse, — 
With wonder viewed the bloody spot, — 
" Exclaim not, gallants ! question not. — 
You, Herbert and Lufifness, alight. 
And bind the wounds of yonder knight ; 460 

147 



Lady of the Lake 

Let the gray palfrey bear his weight, 

We destined for a fairer freight, 

And bring him on to StirHng straight ; 

I will before at better speed, 

To seek fresh horse and fitting weed. 465 

The sun rides high ; — I must be boune 

To see the archer-game at noon ; 

But lightly Bayard clears the lea. — 

De Vaux and Herries, follow me. 



XVIII 

" Stand, Bayard, stand ! "■ — the steed obeyed, 470 
With arching neck and bended head, 
And glancing eye and quivering ear. 
As if he loved his lord to hear. 
No foot Fitz-James in stirrup stayed, 
No grasp upon the saddle laid, 475 

But wreathed his left hand in the mane. 
And lightly bounded from the plain. 
Turned on the horse his armed heel, 
'And stirred his courage with the steel, 
Bounded the fiery steed in air, 480 

The rider sat erect and fair, 
Then like a bolt from steel crossbow 
Forth launched, along the plain they go. 
They dashed that rapid torrent through, 
And up Carhonie's hill they flew ; 485 

Still at the gallop pricked the Knight, 
His merrymen followed as they might. 
Along thy banks, swift Teith ! they ride, 
And in the race they mock thy tide ; 
Torry and Lendrick now are past, 490 

And Deanstown lies behind them cast ; 
They rise, the bannered towers of Doune, 
They sink in distant woodland soon ; 
148 



Lady of the Lake 

Blair-Drummond sees the hoofs strike fire, 

They sweep Hke breeze through Ochtertyre; 495 

They mark just glance and disappear 

The lofty brow of ancient Kier ; 

They bathe their coursers' sweltering sides, 

Dark Forth ! amid thy sluggish tides, 

And on the opposing shore take ground, 500 

With plash, with scramble, and with bound. 

Right-hand they leave thy cliffs, Craig-Forth ! 

And soon the bulwark of the North, 

Gray Stirling, with her towers and town, 

Upon their fleet career looked down. 505 



XIX 

As up the flinty path they strained. 
Sudden his steed the leader reined; 
A signal to his squire he flung. 
Who instant to his stirrup sprung : — 
*' Seest thou, De Vaux, yon woodsman gray, 510 

Who townward holds the rocky way. 
Of stature tall and poor array? 
Mark'st thou the firm, yet active stride. 
With which he scales the mountain-side? 
Know'st thou from whence he comes, or whom ? " 515 
" No, by my word ; — a burly groom 
He seems, who in the field or chase 
A baron's train would nobly grace — " 
'' Out, out, De Vaux ! can fear supply, 
And jealousy, no sharper eye? 520 

Afar, ere to the hill he drew. 
That stately form and step I knew ; 
Like form in Scotland is not seen. 
Treads not such step on Scottish green. 
'T is James of Douglas, by Saint Serle ! 525 

The uncle of the banished Earl. 
149 



Lady of the Lake 

Away, away, to^ court, to show 

The near approach of dreaded foe : 

The Kmg must stand upon his guard; 

Douglas and he must meet prepared." 530 

Then right-hand wheeled their steeds, and straight 

They won the Castle's postern gate. 



XX 

The Douglas, who had bent his way 
From Cambus-kenneth's abbey gray. 
Now, as he climbed the rocky shelf, 535 

Held sad communion with himiself : — 
" Yes ! all is true my fears could frame ; 
A prisoner lies the noble Grseme, 
And fiery Roderick soon will feel 
The vengeance of the royal steel. 540 

I, only I, can ward their fate, — 
God grant the ransom come not late ! 
The Abbess hath her promise given. 
My child shall be the bride of Heaven ; — 
Be pardoned one repining tear ! 545 

For He who gave her knows how dear, 
How excellent ! — but that is by, 
And now my business is — to die. — 
Ye towers ! within whose circuit dread 
A Douglas by his sovereign bled ; 550 

And thou, O sad and fatal mound ! 
That oft hast heard the death-axe sound. 
As on the noblest of the land 
Fell the stern headsman's bloody hand, — 
The dungeon, block, and nameless tomb 555 

Prepare — for Douglas seeks his doom ! 
But hark ! what blithe and jolly peal 
Makes the Franciscan steeple reel? 
150 



Lady of the Lake 

And see ! upon the crowded street, 

In motley groups what masquers meet ! 560 

Banner and pageant, pipe and drum, 

And merry morrice-dancers come. 

I guess, by all this quaint array, 

The burghers hold their sports to-day. 

James will be there ; he loves such show, 565 

Where the good yeoman bends his bow, 

And the tough wrestler foils his foe, 

As well 'as where, in proud career. 

The high-born tilter shivers spear. 

I'll follow to the Castle-park, 570 

And play my prize ; — King James shall mark 

If age has tamed these sinews stark. 

Whose force so oft in happier days 

His boyish wonder loved to praise." 

XXI 

The Castle gates were open flung, 575 

The quivering drawbridge rocked and rung. 
And echoed loud the flinty street 
Beneath the coursers' clattering feet. 
As slowly down the steep descent 
Fair Scotland's King and nobles went, 580 

While all along the crowded way 
Was jubilee and loud huzza. 
And ever James was bending low 
To his white jennet's saddle-bow. 
Doffing his cap to city dame, 585 

Who smiled and blushed for pride and shame. 
And well the simperer might be vain, — 
He chose the fairest of the train. 
Gravely he greets each city sire, 

Commends each pageant's quaint attire, 590 

151 



Lady of the Lake 

Gives to the dancers thanks aloud, 

And smiles and nods upon the crowd, 

Who rend the heavens with their acclaims, — 

*' Long live the Commons' King, King James ! " 

Behind the King thronged peer and knight, 595 

And noble dame and damsel bright. 

Whose fiery steeds ill brooked the stay 

Of the steep street and crowded way. 

But in the train you might discern 

Dark lowering brow and visage stern ; . 600 

There nobles mourned their pride restrained, 

And the mean burgher's joys disdained ; 

And chiefs, who, hostage for their clan, 

Were each from home a banished man, 

There thought upon their own gray tower, 605 

Their waving woods, their feudal power, 

And deemed themselves a shameful part 

Of pageant which they cursed in heart. 

XXII 

Now, in the Castle-park, drew out 
Their checkered bands the joyous rout. 610 

There morricers, with bell at heel 
And blade in hand, their mazes wheel ; 
But chief, beside the butts, there stand 
Bold Robin Hood and all his band, — 
Friar Tuck with quarterstafif and cowl, 615 

Old Scathelocke with his surly scowl, 
Maid Marian, fair as ivory bone. 
Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John; 
Their bugles challenge all that will. 
In archery to prove their skill. 620 

The Douglas bent a bow of might, — 
His first shaft centred in the white. 
And when in turn he shot again. 
His second split the first in twain. 
152 



Lady of the Lake 

From the King's hand must' Douglas take 625 

A silver dart, the archers' stake ; 

Fondly he watched, with watery eye. 

Some answering glance of sympathy, — 

No kind emotion made reply ! 

Indifferent as to archer wight, 630 

The monarch gave the arrow bright. 

• XXIII 

Now, clear the ring! for, hand to hand, 

The manly wrestlers take their stand. 

Two o'er the rest superior rose. 

And proud demanded mightier foes, — 635 

Nor called in vain, for Douglas came. — 

For life is Hugh of Larbert lame ; 

Scarce better John of Alloa's fare. 

Whom senseless home his comrades bare. 

Prize of the wrestling match, the King 640 

To' Douglas gave a golden ring, 

While coldly glanced his eye of blue, 

As frozen drop of wintry dew. 

Douglas would speak, but in his breast 

His struggling soul his words suppressed; 645 

Indignant then he turned him where 

Their arms the brawny yeomen bare, 

To hurl the massive bar in air. 

When each his utmost strength had shown, 

The Douglas rent an earth-fast stone 650 

From its deep bed, then heaved it high, 

And sent the fragment through the sky 

A rood beyond the farthest mark ; 

And still in Stirling's royal park. 

The gray-haired sires, who know the past, 655 

To strangers point the Douglas cast, 

And moralize on the decay 

Of Scottish strength in modern day. 

153 



Lady of the Lake 

XXIV 

The vale with loud applauses rang, 
The Ladies' Rock sent back the clang. 660 

The King, with look unmoved, bestowed 
A purse well filled with pieces broad. 
Indignant smiled the Douglas proud. 
And threw the gold among the crowd, 
Who now with anxious wonder scan, 665 

And sharper glance, the dark gray man ; 
Till whispers rose among the throng. 
That heart so free, and hand so strong, 
Must to the Douglas blood belong. 
The old men marked and shook the head, 670 

To see his hair with silver spread, 
And winked aside, and told each son 
Of feats upon the English done. 
Ere Douglas of the stalwart hand 
Was exiled from his native land. 675 

The women praised his stately form. 
Though wrecked by many a winter's storm; 
The youth with awe and wonder saw 
His strength surpassing Nature's law. 
This judged, as is their wont, the crowd, 680 

Till murmurs rose to clamors loud. 
But not a glance from that proud ring 
Of peers who circled round the King 
With Douglas held communion kind. 
Or called the banished man to mind ; 685 

No, not from those who at the chase 
Once held his side the honored place, 
Begirt his board, and in the field 
Found safety underneaith his shield ; 
For he whom royal eyes disown, 690 

When was his form to courtiers known ! 
154 



Lady of the Lake 

XXV 

The Monarch saw the gambols flag, 
And bade let loose a gallant stag, 
Whose pride, the holiday to crown. 
Two favorite greyhounds should pull down, 695 

That venison free and Bourdeaux wine 
Might serve the archery to dine. 
But Lufra, — whom from Douglas's side 
Nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide. 
The fleetest hound in all the North, — 700 

Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. 
She left the royal hounds midway. 
And dashing on the antlered prey, 
Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank, 
And deep the flowing life-blood drank. 705 

The King's stout huntsman saw the sport 
By strange intruder broken short. 
Came up, and with his leash unbound 
In anger struck the noble hound. 
The Douglas had endured, that morn, 710 

The King's cold look, the nobles' scorn, 
And last, and worst to spirit proud. 
Had borne the pity of the crowd ; 
But Lufra had been fondly bred, 
To share his board, to watch his bed, 715 

And oft would Ellen Lufra's neck 
In maiden glee with garlands deck ; 
They were such playmates that with name 
Of Lufra Ellen's image came. 

His stifled wrath is brimming high, 720 

In darkened brow and flashing eye ; 
As waves before the bark divide, 
The crowd gave way before his stride; 
Needs but a buffet and no more. 
The groom lies senseless in his gore. 725 

155 



Lady of the Lake 

Such blow no other hand could deal. 
Though gauntleted in glove of steel. 



XXVI 

Then clamored loud the royal train, 

And brandished swords and staves amain. 

But stern the Baron's warning : *' Back ! 730 

Back, on your lives, ye menial pack ! 

Beware the Douglas. — Yes ! behold, 

King James ! The Douglas, doomed of old, 

And vainly sought for near and far, 

A victim to atone the war, 735 

A willing victim, now attends. 

Nor craves thy grace but for his friends." — 

** Thus is my clemency repaid? 

Presumptuous Lord ! " the Monarch said : 

" Of thy misproud ambitious clan, 740 

Thou, James of Bothwell, wert the man. 

The only man, in whom a foe 

My woman-mercy would not know ; 

But shall a Monarch's presence brook 

Injurious blow and haughty look? — 745 

What ho ! the Captain of our Guard ! 

Give the offender fitting ward. — 

Break off the sports ! " — for tumult rose. 

And yeomen 'gan to bend their bows, — 

" Break off the sports ! " he said and frowned, 750 

" And bid our horsemen clear the ground." 



XXVII 

Then uproar wild and misarray 
Marred the fair form of festal day. 
The horsemen pricked among the crowd. 
Repelled by threats and insult loud ; 755 

156 



Lady of the Lake 

To earth are borne the old and weak, 

The timorous fly, the women shriek ; 

With flint, with shaft, with staff, with bar, 

The hardier urge tumultuous war. 

At once round Douglas darkly sweep 760 

The royal spears in circle deep. 

And slowly scale the pathway steep, 

While on the rear in thunder pour 

The rabble with disordered roar. 

With grief the noble Douglas saw 765 

The Commons rise against the law, 

And to the leading soldier said : 

" Sir John of Hynford, 't was my blade 

That knighthood on thy shoulder laid ; 

For that good deed permit me then 770 

A word with these misguided men. — 

XXVIII 

*' Hear, gentle friends, ere yet for me 
Ye break the bands of fealty. 
My life, my honor, and my cause, 
I tender free to Scotland's laws. 775 

Are these so weak as must require 
The aid of your misguided ire ? 
Or if I suffer causeless wrong. 
Is then my selfish rage so strong. 
My sense of public weal so low, 780 

That, for mean vengeance on a foe. 
Those cords of love I should unbind 
Which knit my country and my kind ? 
O no ! Believe, in yonder tower 

It will not soothe my captive hour, 785 

To know those spears our foes should dread 
For me in kindred gore are red : 
157 



Lady of the Lake 

To know, in fruitless brawl begun, 

For me that mother wails her son, 

For me that widow's mate expires, 790 

For me that orphans weep their sires, 

That patriots mourn insulted laws, 

And curse the Douglas for the cause. 

Oh let your patience ward such ill, 

And keep your right to love me still ! " 795 



XXIX 

The crowd's wild fury sunk again 

In tears, as tempests melt in rain. 

With lifted hands and eyes, they prayed 

For blessings on his generous head 

Who for his country felt alone, 800 

And prized her blood beyond his own. 

Old men upon the verge of life 

Blessed him who stayed the civil strife; 

And mothers held their babes on high, 

The self-devoted Chief to spy, 805 

Triumphant over wrongs and ire. 

To whom the prattlers owed a sire. 

Even the rough soldier's heart was moved ; 

As if behind some bier beloved. 

With trailing arms and drooping head, 810 

The Douglas up the hill he led. 

And at the Castle's battled verge. 

With sighs resigned his honored charge. 



XXX 

The ofifended Monarch rode apart, 

With bitter thought and swelling heart, 815 

And would not now vouchsafe again 

Through Stirling streets to lead his train. 

158 



Lady of the Lake 

" O Lennox, who would wish to rule 

This changeling crowd, this common fool? 

Hear'st thou," he said, " the loud acclaim 820 

With which they shout the Douglas name ? 

With like acclaim the vulgar throat 

Strained for King James their morning note ; 

With like acclaim they hailed the day 

When first I broke the Douglas sway ; 825 

And like acclaim would Douglas greet 

If he could hurl me from my seat. 

Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, 

Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain? 

Vain as the leaf upon the stream, 830 

And fickle as a changeful dream ; 

Fantastic as a woman's mood. 

And fierce as Frenzy's fevered blood. 

Thou many-headed monster-thing, 

Oh who would wish to be thy king? — 835 

XXXI 

** But soft ! what messenger of speed 
Spurs hitherward his panting steed? 
I guess his cognizance afar — 
What from our cousin, John of Mar? " 
*' He prays, my liege, your sports keep bound 840 
Within the safe and guarded ground ; • 
For some foul purpose yet unknown, — 
Most sure for evil to the throne, — 
The outlawed Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 
Has summoned his rebellious crew ; 845 

'T is said, in James of Bothwell's aid 
These loose banditti stand arrayed. 
The Earl of Mar this morn from Doune 
To break their muster marched, and soon 
Your Grace will hear of battle fought ; 850 

But earnestly the Earl besought, 
159 



Lady of the Lake 

Till for such danger he provide, 
With scanty train you will not ride. 



XXXII 

" Thou warn'st me I have done amis ; — 
I should have earlier looked to this ; 
I lost it in this bustling day. — 
Retrace with speed thy former way ; 
Spare not for spoiling of thy steed, 
The best of mine shall be thy meed. 
Say to our faithful Lord of Mar, 
We do forbid the intended war ; 
Roderick this morn in single fight 
Was made our prisoner by a knight, 
And Douglas hath himself and cause 
Submitted to our kingdom's laws. 
The tidings of their leaders lost 
Will soon dissolve the mountain host, 
Nor would we that the vulgar feel. 
For their Chief's crimes, avenging steel. 
Bear Mar our message, Braco, fly ! " 
He turned his steed, — " My liege, I hie, 
Yet ere I cross this lily lawn 
I fear the broadswords will be drawn." 
The turf the flying courser spurned. 
And to his towers the King returned. 

XXXIII 

111 with King James's mood that day 
Suited gay feast and minstrel lay ; 
Soon were dismissed the courtly throng, 
And soon cut short the festal song. 
Nor less upon the saddened town 
The evening sunk in sorrow down. 
i6o 



Lady of the Lake 

The burghers spoke of civil jar, 

Of rumored feuds and mountaiji war, 

Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, 

All up in arms ; — the Douglas too, 885 

They mourned him pent within the hold, 

" Where stout Earl William was of old." — 

And there his word the speaker stayed, 

And finger on his lip he laid, 

Or pointed to his dagger blade. 890 

But jaded horsemen from the west 

At evening to the Castle pressed, 

And busy talkers said they bore 

Tidings of fight on Katrine's shore; 

At noon the deadly fray begun, 895 

And lasted till the set of sun. 

Thus giddy rumor shook the town, 

Till closed the Night her pennons brown. 



II 161 



CANTO SIXTH 

THE GUARD-ROOM 



The sun, awakening, through the smoky air 

Of the dark city casts a sullen glance, 
Rousing each caitiff to his task of care, 

Of sinful man the sad inheritance; 
Summoning revellers from the lagging dance, 5 

Scaring the prowling robber to his den ; 
Gilding on battled tower the warder's lance, 
And warning student pale to leave his pen. 
And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men. 
What various scenes, and O, what scenes of woe, 10 

Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam ! 
The fevered patient, from his pallet low, 

Through crowded hospital beholds it stream; 
The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam. 

The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail, 15 

The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream ; 

The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale, 
Trims her sick infant's couch, and soothes his feeble 
wail. 

II 
At dawn the towers of Stirling rang 
With soldier-step and weapon-clang, 20 

While drums with rolling note foretell 
Relief to weary sentinel. 
Through narrow loop and casement barred, 
The sunbeams sought the Court of Guard, 
And, struggling with the smoky air, 25 

Deadened the torches' yellow glare. 
In comfortless alliance shone 
The lights through arch of blackened stone, 
162 



Lady of the Lake 

And showed wild shapes in garb of war, 

Faces deformed with beard and scar, 30 

All haggard from the midnight watch, 

And fevered with the stern debauch ; 

For the oak table's massive board, 

Flooded with wine, with fragments stored, 

And beakers drained, and cups o'erthrown, 35 

Showed in what sport the night had flown. 

Some, weary, snored on floor and bench; 

Some labored still their thirst to quench ; 

Some, chilled with watching, spread their hands 

O'er the huge chimney's dying brands, 40 

While round them, or beside them flung, 

At every step their harness rung. 

Ill 

These drew not for their fields the sword. 
Like tenants of a feudal lord. 

Nor owned. the patriarchal claim 45 

Of Chieftain in their leader's name ; . 
Adventurers they, from far who roved, 
To live by battle which they loved. 
There the Italian's clouded face. 
The swarthy Spaniard's there you trace ; 50 

The mountain-loving Switzer there 
More freely breathed in mountain-air; 
The Fleming there despised the soil 
That paid so ill the laborer's toil ; 
Their rolls showed French and German name ; 55 
And merry England's exiles came, 
To share, with ill-concealed disdain, 
Of Scotland's pay the scanty gain. 
All brave in arms, well trained to wield 
The heavy halberd, brand, and shield ; 60 

163 



Lady of the Lake 

In camps licentious, wild, and bold ; 
In pillage fierce and uncontrolled ; 
And now, by holytide and feast, 
From rules of discipline released. 

IV 

They held debate of bloody fray, 65 

Fought 'twixt Loch Katrine and Achray. 

Fierce was their speech, and mid their words 

Their hands oft grappled to their swords : 

Nor sunk their tone to spare the ear 

Of wounded comrades groaning near, 70 

Whose mangled limbs and bodies gored 

Bore token of the mountain sword. 

Though, neighboring to the Court of Guard, 

Their prayers and feverish wails were heard, — 

Sad burden to the ruffian joke, 75 

And savage oath by fury spoke ! — 

At length upstarted John of Brent, 

A yeoman from the banks of Trent; 

A strang'er to respect or fear. 

In peace a chaser of the deer, 80 

In host a hardy mutineer, 

But still the boldest of the crew 

When deed of danger was to do. 

He grieved that day their games cut short, 

And marred the dicer's brawling sport, 85 

And shouted loud, " Renew the bowl ! 

And, while a merry catch I troll. 

Let each the buxom chorus bear, 

Like brethren of the brand and spear." 

VI 

The warder's challenge, heard without. 
Stayed in mid-roar the merry shout. 
164 



Lady of the Lake 

A soldier to the portal went, — 1 10 

''Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent; 

And — beat for jubilee the drum! — 

A maid and minstrel with him come." 

Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarred, 

Was entering now the Court of Guard, 115 

A harper with him, and, in plaid 

All muffled close, a mountain maid. 

Who backward shrunk to 'scape the view 

Of the loose scene and boisterous crew. 

" What news? " they roared : — ** I only know, 120 

From noon till eve we fought with foe, 

As wild and as untamable 

As the rude mountains where they dwell ; 

On both sides store of blood is lost, 

Nor much success can either boast." — 125 

" But whence thy captives, friend? such spoil 

As theirs must needs reward thy toil. 

Old dost thou wax, and wars grow sharp ; 

Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp ! 

Get thee an ape, and trudge the land, 130 

The leader of a juggler band." 

VII 

" No, comrade ; — no such fortune mine. 
After the fight these sought our line, 
That aged harper and the girl. 

And having audience of the Earl, 135 

Mar bade I should purvey them steed, 
And bring them hitherward with speed. 
Forbear your mirth and rude alarm, 
For none shall do them shame or harm." — 
" Hear ye his boast ? " cried John of Brent, 140 

Ever to strife and jangling bent; 
*' Shall he strike doe beside our lodge, 
And yet the jealous niggard grudge 
165 



Lady of the Lake 

To pay the forester his fee? 

I'll have my share howe'er it be, I45 

Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee/' 

Bertram his forward step withstood; 

And, burning in his vengeful mood, 

Old Allan, though unfit for strife. 

Laid hand upon his dagger-knife; 150 

But Ellen boldly stepped between, 

And dropped at once the tartan screen : — 

So, from his morning cloud, appears 

The sun of May through summer tears. 

The savage soldiery, amazed, 155 

As on descended angel gazed ; 

Even hardy Brent, abashed and tamed, 

Stood half admiring, half ashamed. 



VIII 

Boldly she spoke : " Soldiers, attend ! 
My father was the soldier's friend, 160 

Cheered him in camps, in marches led. 
And with him in the battle bled. 
Not from the valiant or the strong 
Should exile's daughter sufifer wrong." 
Answered De Brent, most forward still 165 

In every feat or good or ill : 
" I shame me of the part I played ; 
And thou an outlav^'s child, poor maid ! 
An outlaw I by forest laws. 

And merry Needwood knows the cause. 170 

Poor Rose, — if Rose be living now," — 
He wiped his iron eye and brow, — 
" Must bear such age, I think, as thou. — 
Hear ye, my mates ! I go to call 

The Captain of our watch to hall : 175 

There lies my halberd on the floor ; 
166 



Lady of the Lake 

And he that steps my halberd o'er, 

To do the maid injurious part, 

My shaft shall quiver in his heart ! 

Beware loose speech, or jesting rough ; i8o 

Ye all know John de Brent. Enough." 



IX 

Their Captain came, a gallant young, — 
Of Tullibardine's house he sprung, — 
Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight ; 
Gay was his mien, his humor light, 185 

And, though by courtesy controlled. 
Forward his speech, his bearing bold. 
The high-born maiden ill could brook 
The scanning of his curious look 

And dauntless eye : — and yet, in sooth, 190 

Young Lewis was a generous youth ; 
But Ellen's lovely face and mien, 
111 suited to the garb and scene, 
Might lightly, bear construction strange, 
And give loose fancy scope to range. 195 

"Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maid! 
Come ye to seek a champion's aid, 
On palfrey white, with harper hoar, < 
Like errant damosel of yore? 

Does Ihy high quest a knight require, 200 

Or may the venture suit a squire ? " 
Her dark eye flashed ; — she paused and sighed : — 
" O what have I to do with pride ! — 
Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife, 
A suppliant for a father's life, 205 

I crave an audience of the King. 
Behold, to back my suit, a ring. 
The royal pledge of grateful claims, 
Given by the Monarch to Fitz-James." 
167 



Lady of the Lake 



The signet ring young Lewis took 210 

With deep respect and altered look, 

And said : '* This ring our duties own ; 

And pardon, if to worth unknown. 

In semblance mean obscurely veiled. 

Lady, in aught my folly failed. 215 

Soon as the day flings wide his gates, 

The King shall know what suitor waits. 

Please you meanwhile in fitting bower 

Repose you till his waking hour; 

Female attendance shall obey 220 

Your best, for service or array. 

Permit I marshal you the way." 

But, ere she followed, with the grace 

And open bounty of her race. 

She bade her slender purse be shared 225 

Among the soldiers of the guard. 

The rest with thanks their guerdon took, 

But Brent, with shy and awkward look, 

On the reluctant maiden's hold 

Forced bluntly back the profTered gold : — 230 

" Forgive a haughty English heart. 

And O, forget its ruder part ! 

The vacant purse shall be my share, 

Which in my barret-cap I'll bear, 

Perchance, in jeopardy of war, 235 

Where gayer crests may keep afar." 

With thanks — 't was all she could — the maid 

His rugged courtesy repaid. 

XI 

When Ellen forth with Lewis went, 
Allan made suit to John of Brent : — 240 

'' My lady safe, O let your grace 
Give me to see my master's face! 
168 



Lady of the Lake 

His minstrel I, — to share his doom 

Bound from the cradle to the tomb. 

Tenth in descent, since first my sires 245 

Waked for his noble house their lyres, 

Nor one of all the race was known 

But prized its weal above their own. 

With the Chief's birth begins our care ; 

Our harp must soothe the infant heir, 250 

Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace 

His earliest feat of field or chase ; 

In peace, in war, our rank we keep, 

We cheer his board, we soothe his sleep, 

Nor leave him till we pour our verse — 255 

A doleful tribute! — o'er his hearse. 

Then let me share his captive lot, 

It is my right — deny it not ! " 

*' Little we reck," said John of Brent, 

*' We Southern men, of long descent ; 260 

Nor wot we how a name — a word — 

Makes clansmen vassals to a lord : 

Yet kind my noble landlord's part, — 

God bless the house of Beaudesert ! 

And, but I loved to drive the deer 265 

More than to guide the laboring steer, 

I had not dwelt an outcast here. 

Come, good old Minstrel, follow me; 

Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see." 



XII 

Then, from a rusted iron hook, 270 

A bunch of ponderous keys he took. 
Lighted a torch, and Allan led 
Through grated arch and passage dread. 
Portals they passed, where, deep within. 
Spoke prisoner's moan and fetters' din; 275 

169 



Lady of the Lake 

Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stored, 

Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword, 

And many a hideous engine grim, 

For wrenching joint and crushing limb, 

By artists formed who deemed it shame 280 

And sin to give their work a name. 

They halted at a low-browed porch, 

And Brent to Allan gave the torch, 

While bolt and chain he backward rolled, 

And made the bar unhasp its hold. 285 

They entered : — 't was a prison-room 

Of stern security and gloom. 

Yet not a dungeon ; for the day 

Through lofty gratings found its way. 

And rude and antique garniture 290 

Decked the sad walls and oaken floor, 

Such as the rugged days of old 

Deemed fit for captive noble's hold. 

" Here," said De Brent, " thou mayst remain 

Till the Leech visit him again. 295 

Strict is his charge, the warders tell. 

To tend the noble prisoner well." 

Retiring then the bolt he drew. 

And the lock's murmurs growled anew. 

Roused at the sound, from lowly bed 300 

A captive feebly raised his head ; 

The wondering Minstrel looked, and knew — 

Not his dear lord, but Roderick Dhu ! 

For, come from where Clan-Alpine fought. 

They, erring, deemed the Chief he sought. 305 



XIII 

As the tall ship, whose lofty prore 
Shall never stem the billows more, 
170 



Lady of the Lake 

Deserted by her gallant band, 
Amid the breakers lies astrand, — 
So on his couch lay Roderick Dhu ! 310 

And oft his fevered limbs he threw 
In toss abrupt, as when her sides 
Lie rocking in the advancing tides. 
That shake her frame with ceaseless beat, 
Yet cannot heave her from her seat; — 315 

.0, how unlike her course at sea! 
Or his free step on hill and lea ! — 
Soon as the Minstrel he could scan, — 
*' What of thy lady ? — of my clan ? — 
My mother ? — Douglas ? — tell me all ! 320 

Have they been ruined in my fall? 
Ah, yes, or wherefore art thou here? 
Yet speak, — speak boldly, — do not fear." — 
For Allan, who his mood well knew. 
Was choked with grief and terror too. — 325 

** Who fought? — who fled? — Old man, be brief ; — 
Some might, — for they had lost their Chief. 
Who basely live — who bravely died ? " 
" O, calm thee. Chief ! " the Minstrel cried, 
^' Ellen is safe ! " '' For that thank Heaven ! " 330 
" And hopes are for the Douglas given ; — 
The Lady Margaret, too, is well ; 
And, for thy clan, — on field or fell, 
Has never harp of minstrel told 
Of combat fought so true and bold. 335 

Thy stately Pine is yet unbent, 
Though many a goodly bough is rent." 

XIV 

The Chieftain reared his form on high, 
And fever's fire was in his eye ; 

But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks 340 

Checkered his swarthy brow and cheeks. 
171 



Lady of the Lake 

" Hark, Minstrel ! I have heard thee play, 

With measure bold on festal day, 

In yon lone isle, — again where ne'er 

Shall harper play or warrior hear ! — 345 

That stirring air that peals on high, 

O'er Dermid's race our victory. — 

Strike it — and then, — for well thou canst, — 

Free from thy minstrel-spirit glanced, 

Fling me the picture of the fight, 350 

When met my clan the Saxon might. 

I'll listen, till my fancy hears 

The clang of swords, the crash of spears ! 

These gates, these walls, shall vanish then 

For the fair field of fighting men, 355 

And my free spirit burst away. 

As if it soared from battle fray." 

The trembling Bard with awe obeyed, — 

Slow on the harp his hand he laid ; 

But soon remembrance of the sight 360 

He witnessed from the mountain's height. 

With what old Bertram told at night. 

Awakened the full power of song. 

And bore him in career along; — 

As shallop launched on river's tide, 365 

That slow and fearful leaves the side. 

But, when it feels the middle stream. 

Drives downward swift as lightning's beam. 

XV 
BATTLE OF BEAl' AN DUINE 

" The Minstrel came once more to view 
The eastern ridge of Benvenue, 370 

For ere he parted he would say 
Farewell to lovely Loch Achray — 
172 



Lady of the Lake 

Where shall he find, in foreign land, 
So lone a lake, so sweet a strand ! — 

There is no breeze upon the fern, 375 

No ripple on the lake, 
Upon her eyry nods the erne, 

The deer has sought the brake ; 
The small birds will not sing aloud. 

The springing trout lies still, 380 

So darkly glooms yon thunder-cloud. 
That swathes, as with a purple shroud, 

Benledi's distant hill. 
Is it the thunder's solemn sound 

That mutters deep and dread, 385 

Or echoes from the groaning ground 

The warrior's measured tread? 
Is it the lightning's quivering glance 

That on the thicket streams. 
Or do they flash on spear and lance 390 

The sun's retiring beams? — 
I see the dagger-crest of Mar, 
I see the Moray silver star. 
Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war, 
That up the lake comes winding far! 395 

To hero boune for battle-strife, 

Or bard of martial lay, 
'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, 
One glance at their array ! 



XVI 

" Their light-armed archers far and near 400 

Surveyed the tangled ground, 
Their centre ranks, with pike and spear, 

At twilight forest frowned. 
Their barbed horsemen in the rear 

The stern battalia crowned. 405 

173 



Lady of the Lake 

No cymbal clashed, no clarion rang, 

Still were the pipe and drum ; 
Save heavy tread, and armor's clang, 
The sullen march was dumb. 
There breathed no wind their crests to shake. 
Or wave their flags abroad ; 
Scarce the frail aspen seemed to quake, 

That shadowed o'er the road. 
Their vaward scouts no tidings bring. 

Can rouse no lurking foe, 
Nor spy a trace of living thing, 

Save when they stirred the roe ; 
The host moves like a deep-sea wave. 
Where rise no rocks its pride to brave. 
High-swelling, dark, and slow. 
The lake is passed, and now they gain 
A narrow and a broken plain, 
Before the Trosach's rugged jaws; 
And here the horse and spearmen pause. 
While, to explore the dangerous glen, 
Dive through the pass the archer-men. 



XVII 

" At once there rose so wild a yell 
Within that dark and narrow dell. 
As all the fiends from heaven that fell 
Had pealed the banner-cry of hell ! 
Forth from the pass in tumult driven, 
Like chaff before the wind of heaven. 

The archery appear : 
For life ! for life ! their flight they ply — 
And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry, 
And plaids and bonnets waving high. 
And broadswords flashing to the sky, 
Are maddening in the rear. 
174 



Lady of the Lake 

Onward they drive in dreadful race, 

Pursuers and pursued ; 440 

Before that tide of flight and chase, 
How shall it keep its rooted place. 

The spearmen's twilight wood? — 

* Down, down,' cried Mar, ' your lances down ! 

Bear back both friend and foe ! ' — 445 

Like reeds before the tempest's frown, 
That serried grove of lances brown 

At once lay levelled low ; 
And closely shouldering side to side. 
The bristling ranks the onset bide. — 450 

* We'll quell the savage mountaineer, 

As their Tinchel cows the game ! 
They come as fleet as forest deer, 
We'll drive them back as tame.' 



XVIII 

" Bearing before them in their course 455 

The relics of the archer force, 

Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, 

Right onward did Clan-Alpine come. 
Above the tide, each broadsword bright 
Was brandishing like beam of light, 460 

Each targe was dark below ; 
And with the ocean's mighty swing, 
When heaving to the tempest's wing, 
They hurled them on the foe. 

I heard the lance's shivering crash, 465 

As when the whirlwind rends the ash ; 

I heard the broadsword's deadly clang, 

As if a hundred anvils rang! 

But Moray wheeled his rearward rank 

Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine's flank, — 470 

175 



Lady of the Lake 

' My banner-man, advance ! 
I see,' he cried, * their coUimn shake. 
Now, gallants! for your ladies' sake, 

Upon them with the lance ! ' — 
The horsemen dashed among the rout, 475 

As deer break through the broom ; 
Their steeds are stout, their swords are out. 

They soon make lightsome room. 
Clan-Alpine's best are backward borne — 

Where, where was Roderick then ! 480 

One blast upon his bugle-horn 

Were worth a thousand men. 
And refluent through the pass of fear 
The battle's tide was poured ; 
Vanished the Saxon's struggling spear, 485 

Vanished the mountain-sword. 
As Bracklinn's chasm, so black and steep, 

Receives her roaring linn. 
As the dark caverns of the deep 

Suck the wild whirlpool in, 490 

So did the deep and darksome pass 
Devour the battle's mingled mass ; 
None linger now upon the plain. 
Save those who ne'er shall fight again. 



XIX 

" Now westward rolls the battle's din, 495 

That deep and doubling pass within. — 
Minstrel, away ! the work of fate 
Is bearing on; its issue wait. 
Where the rude Trosachs' dread defile 
Opens on Katrine's lake and isle. 500 

Gray Benvenue I soon repassed. 
Loch Katrine lay beneath me cast. 
176 



Lady of the Lake 

The sun is set ; — the clouds are met, 
The lowering scowl of heaven 

An inky hue of livid blue 505 

To the deep lake has given ; 
Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen 
Swept o'er the lake, then sunk again. 
I heeded not the eddying surge, 
Mine eye but saw the Trosachs' gorge, 510 

Mine ear but heard that sullen sound. 
Which like an earthquake shook the ground, 
And spoke the stern and desperate strife 
That parts not but with parting life. 
Seeming, to minstrel ear, to toll 515 

The dirge of many a passing soul. 

Nearer it comes — the dim-v/ood glen 

The martial flood disgorged again. 
But not in mingled tide; 

Th6 plaided warriors of the North 520 

High on the mountain thunder forth 
And overhang its side, 

While by the lake below appears 

The darkening cloud of Saxon spears. 

At weary bay each shattered band, 525 

Eying their foemen, sternly stand ; 

Their banners stream like tattered sail, 

That flings its fragments to the gale, 

And broken arms and disarray 

Marked the fell havoc of the day. 530 

XX 

" Viewing the mountain's ridge askance. 
The Saxons stood in sullen trance, 
Till Moray pointed with his lance, 
And cried : ' Behold yon isle ! — 
12 177 



Lady of the Lake 

See ! none are left to guard its strand 535 

But women weak, that wring the hand : 
'Tis there of yore the robber band 

Their booty wont to pile ; — 
My purse, with bonnet-pieces store, 
To him will swim a bow-shot o'er, 540 

And loose a shallop from the shore. 
Lightly we'll tame the war-wolf then, 
Lords of his mate, and brood, and den.' 
Forth from the ranks a spearman sprung, 
On earth his casque and corselet rung, 545 

He plunged him in the wave : — 
All saw the deed, — the purpose knew. 
And to their clamors Benvenue 

A mingled echo gave ; 
The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer, 550 

The helpless females scream for fear, 
And yells for rage the mountaineer. 
'Twas then, as by the outcry riven. 
Poured down at once the lowering heaven : 
A whirlwind swept Loch Katrine's breast, 555 

Her billows reared their snowy crest. 
Well for the swimmer swelled they high, 
To mar the Highland marksman's eye; 
For round him showered, mid rain and hail, 
The vengeful arrows of the Gael. 560 

In vain. — He nears the isle — and lo! 
His hand is on a shallop's bow. 
Just then a flash of lightning came. 
It tinged the waves and strand with flame ; 
I marked Duncraggan's widowed dame, 565 

Behind an oak I saw her stand, 
A naked dirk gleamed in her hand ! — 
It darkened, — but amid the moan 
Of waves I heard a dying groan ; — 
178 



Lady of the Lake 

Another flash ! — the spearman floats 570 

A weltering corse beside the boats, 
And the stern matron o'er him stood, 
Her hand and dagger streaming blood. 



XXI 

" * Revenge ! revenge ! ' the Saxons cried, 
The Gaels' exulting shout replied. 575 

Despite the elemental rage, 
Again they hurried to engage ; 
But, ere they closed in desperate fight. 
Bloody with spurring came a knight, 
Sprung from his horse, and from a crag 580 

Waved 'twixt the hosts a milk-white flag. 
Clarion and trumpet by his side 
Rung forth a truce-note high and wide, 
While, in the Monarch's name, afar 
A herald's voice forbade the war, 585 

For Bothwell's lord and Roderick bold 
Were both, he said, in captive hold." — 
But here the lay made sudden stand, 
The harp escaped the Minstrel's hand ! 
Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy 590 

How Roderick brooked his minstrelsy : 
At first, the Chieftain, to the chime, 
With lifted hand kept feeble time; 
That motion ceased, — yet feeling strong 
Varied his look as changed the song ; 595 

At length, no more his deafened ear 
The minstrel melody can hear; 
His face grows sharp, — his hands are clenched. 
As if some pang his heart-strings wrenched , 
Set are his teeth, his fading eye 600 

Is sternly fixed on vacancy ; 
179 



Lady of the Lake 

Thus, motionless and moanless, drew 

His parting breath stout Roderick Dhu ! — 

Old Allan-bane looked on aghast, 

While grim and still his spirit passed ; 605 

But when he saw that life was fled, 

He poured his wailing o'er the dead. 

XXII 
LAMENT 

" And art thou cold and lowly laid, 

Thy f oeman's dread, thy people's aid, 

Breadalbane's boast, Clan-Alpine's shade! 610 

For thee, shall none a requiem say ? — 

For thee who loved the minstrel's lay, 

For thee, of Bothwell's house the stay, 

The shelter of her exiled line. 

E'en in this prison-house of thine, 615 

I'll wail for Alpine's honored Pine ! 

" What groans shall yonder valleys fill ! 

What shrieks of grief shall rend yon hill ! 

What tears of burning rage shall thrill. 

When mourns thy tribe thy battles done, 620 

Thy fall before the race was won, 

Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun ! 

There breathes not clansman of thy line. 

But would have given his life for thine. 

Oh, woe for Alpine's honored Pine ! 625 

" Sad was thy lot on mortal stage ! — 
The captive thrush may brook the cage, 
The prisoned eagle dies for rage. 
Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain ! 
And, when its notes awake again, 630 

180 



Lady of the Lake 

Even she, so long beloved in vain, 
Shall with my harp her voice combine, 
And mix her woe and tears with mine, 
To wail Clan-Alpine's honored Pine." 

XXIII 

Ellen the while, with bursting heart, 635 

Remained in lordly bower apart, 
Where played, with many-colored gleams. 
Through storied pane the rising beams. 
In vain on gilded roof they fall, 
And lightened up a tapestried wall, 640 

And for her use a menial train 
A rich collation spread in vain. 
The banquet proud, the chamber gay, 
Scarce drew one curious glance astray ; 
Or if she looked, 't was but to say, 645 

With better omen dawned the day 
In that lone isle, where waved on high 
The sun-deer's hide for canopy; 
Where oft her noble father shared 
The simple meal her care prepared, 650 

While Lufra, crouching by her side. 
Her station claimed with jealous pride, 
And Douglas, bent on woodland game. 
Spoke of the chase to Malcolm Graeme, 
Whose answer, oft at random made, 655 

The wandering of his thoughts betrayed. 
Those who such simple joys have known 
Are taught to prize them when they're gone. 
But sudden, see, she lifts her head. 
The window seeks with cautious tread. 660 

What distant music has the power 
To win her in this woful hour? 
'T was from a turret that o'erhung 
Her latticed bower, the strain was sung. 
181 



Lady of the Lake 

XXIV 
LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN 

" My hawk is tired of perch and hood, 665 

My idle greyhound loathes his food, 

My horse is weary of his stall, 

And I am sick of captive thrall. 

I wish I were as I have been, 

Hunting the hart in forest green, 670 

With bended bow and bloodhound free, 

For that's the life is meet for me. 

" I hate to learn the ebb of time 

From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime, 

Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl, 675 

Inch after inch, along the wall. 

The lark was wont my matins ring. 

The sable rook my vespers sing ; 

These towers, although a king's they be. 

Have not a hall of joy for me. 680 

" No more at dawning morn I rise, 

And sun myself in Ellen's eyes, 

Drive the fleet deer the forest through. 

And homeward wend with evening dew ; 

A blithesome welcome blithely meet, 685 

And lay my trophies at her feet, 

While fled the eve on wing of glee, — 

That life is lost to love and. me ! " 

XXV 

The heart-sick lay was hardly said. 
The listener had not turned her head, . 690 

It trickled still, the starting tear, 
When light a footstep struck her ear. 
And Snowdoun's graceful Knight was near. 
182 



Lady of the Lake 

She turned the hastier, lest again 

The prisoner should renew his strain. 695 

" O welcome, brave Fitz-James ! " she said ; 

" How may an almost orphan maid 

Pay the deep debt — " " O say not so ! 

To me no gratitude you owe. 

Not mine, alas ! the boon to give, 700 

And bid thy noble father live; 

I can but be thy guide, sweet maid, 

With Scotland's King thy suit to aid. 

No tyrant he, though ire and pride 

May lay his better mood aside. 705 

Come, Ellen, come ! 'tis more than time, 

He holds his court at morning prime." 

With beating heart, and bosom wrung. 

As to a brother's arm she clung. 

Gently he dried the falling tear, 710 

And gently whispered hope and cheer; 

Her faltering steps half led, half stayed. 

Through gallery fair and high arcade, 

Till at his touch its wings of pride 

A portal arch unfolded wide. 715 



XXVI 

Within 't was brilliant all and light, 
A thronging scene of figures bright; 
It glowed on Ellen's dazzled sight. 
As when the setting sun has given 
Ten thousand hues to summer even, 720 

And from their tissue fancy frames 
Aerial knights and fairy dames. 
Still by Fitz-James her footing staid, 
A few faint steps she forward made, 
Then slow her drooping head she raised, 725 

And fearful round the presence gazed ; 
183 



Lady of the Lake 

For him she sought who owned this state, 

The dreaded Prince whose will was fate ! — 

She gazed on many a princely port 

Might well have ruled a royal court ; 730 

On many a splendid garb she gazed, — 

Then turned bewildered and amazed, 

For all stood bare ; and in the room 

Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. 

To him each lady's look was lent, 735 

On him each courtier's eye was bent ; 

Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen. 

He stood, in simple Lincoln green, 

The centre of the glittering ring, — 

And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King! 740 



XXVII 

As wreath of snow on mountain-breast 
Slides from the rock that gave it rest, 
Poor Ellen glided from her stay. 
And at the Monarch's feet she lay; 
No word her choking voice commands, — 745 

She showed the ring, — she clasped her hands. 
Oh not a moment could he brook, 
The generous Prince, that suppliant look! 
Gently he raised her, — and, the while. 
Checked with a glance the circle's smile ; 750 

Graceful, but grave, her brow he kissed. 
And bade her terrors be dismissed : — 
" Yes, fair ; the wandering poor Fitz-James 
The fealty of Scotland claims. 

To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring ; 755 

He will redeem his signet ring. 
Ask naught for Douglas ; — yester even, 
His Prince and he have much forgiven; 
184 



Lady of the Lake 

Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue, 

I, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong. 760 

We would not, to the vulgar crowd, 

Yield what they craved with clamor loud; 

Calmly we heard and judged his cause; 

Our council aided and our laws. 

I stanched thy father's death-feud stern 765 

With stout De Vaux and gray Glencairn ; 

And Bothwell's Lord henceforth we own 

The friend and bulwark of our throne. — 

But, lovely infidel, how now? 

What clouds thy misbelieving brow? 770 

Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid ; 

Thou must confirm this doubting maid." 

XXVIII 

Then forth the noble Douglas sprung, 
And on his neck his daughter hung. 
The Monarch drank, that happy hour, 775 

The sweetest, holiest draught of Power, — 
When it can say with godlike voice, 
Arise, sad Virtue, and rejoice ! 
Yet would not James the general eye 
On nature's raptures long should pry; 780 

He stepped between — " Nay, Douglas, nay. 
Steal not my proselyte away ! 
The riddle 't is my right to read, 
That brought this happy chance to speed. 
Yes, Ellen, when disguised I stray 785 

In life's more low but happier way, 
'T is under name which veils my power, 
Nor falsely veils, — for Stirling's tower 
Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims, 
And Normans call me James Fitz-James. 790 

Thus watch I o'er insulted laws ; 
Thus learn to right the injured cause." 
i8s 



Lady of the Lake 

Then, in a tone apart and low, — 

" Ah, httle traitress ! none must know 

What idle dream, what lighter thought, 795 

What vanity full dearly bought, 

Joined to thine eye's dark witchcraft, drew 

My spell bound steps to Benvenue 

In dangerous hour, and all but gave 

Thy Monarch's life to mountain glaive ! " 800 

Aloud he spoke : " Thou still dost hold 

That little talisman of gold, 

Pledge of my faith, Fitz-James's ring, — 

What seeks fair Ellen of the King?" 



XXIX 

Full well the conscious maiden guessed 805 

He probed the weakness of her breast; 
But with that consciousness there came 
A lightening of her fears for Graeme, 
And more she deemed the Monarch's ire 
Kindled 'gainst him who for her sire 810 

Rebellious broadsword boldly drew ; 
And, to her generous feeling true. 
She craved the grace of Roderick Dhu. 
" Forbear thy suit ; — the King of kings 
Alone can stay life's parting wings. 815 

I know his heart, I know his hand. 
Have shared his cheer, and proved his brand ; — 
My fairest earldom would I give 
To bid Clan-Alpine's Chieftain live ! — 
Hast thou no other boon to crave ? 820 

No other captive friend to save? " 
Blushing, she turned her from the King, 
And to the Douglas gave the ring. 
As if she wished her sire to speak 
The suit that stained her glowing cheek. 825 

186 



Lady of the Lake 

" Nay, then, my pledge has lost its force, 

And stubborn justice holds her course. 

Malcolm, come forth ! " — and, at the word, 

Down kneeled the Graeme to Scotland's Lord. 

** For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues, 830 

From thee may Vengeance claim her dues. 

Who, nurtured underneath our smile, 

Hast paid our care by treacherous wile, 

And sought amid thy faithful clan 

A refuge for an outlawed man, 835 

Dishonoring thus thy loyal name. — 

Fetters and warder for the Graeme ! " 

His chain of gold the King unstrung. 

The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung. 

Then gently drew the glittering band, 840 

And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand. 

Harp of the North, farewell ! The hills grow dark, 

On purple peaks a deeper shade descending ; 
In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark. 

The deer, half seen, are to the covert wending. 845 
Resume thy wizard elm ! the fountain lending. 

And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy ; 
Thy numbers sweet with nature's vespers blending. 

With distant echo from the fold and lea. 
And herdboy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee. 

Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp! 851 

Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway. 
And little reck I of the censure sharp 

May idly cavil at an idle lay. 
Much have I owed thy strains on life's long way, 855 

Through secret woes the world has never known. 
When on the weary night dawned wearier day. 

And bitterer was the grief devoured alone. — 
That I o'erlive such woes. Enchantress ! is thine own. 

187 



Lady of the Lake 

Hark ! as my lingering footsteps slow retire, 860 

Some Spirit of the Air has waked thy string ! 
'Tis now a seraph bold, with touch of fire, 

'Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing. 
Receding now, the dying numbers ring 

Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell ; 865 

And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring 

A wandering witch-note of the distant spell — 
And now, 'tis silent all ! — Enchantress, fare thee well. 



188 



NOTES AND QUERIES 
Canto I 

1. Harp of the North. The harp, the national instrument of 
Scottish minstrelsy, here embodies its spirit. 

2. Witch-elm. Its twigs were bent and used for riding 
whips, and were supposed to have the power of divining rods to 
insure good luck. 

3. Saint Fillan. A Scotch abbot of the seventh century, eventu- 
ally made a saint. Two springs were connected with his name, 
one near Loch Earn, and the other near Loch Lomond, both said 
to possess curative power. See " Marmion," I, 29. 

4. Envious ivy. What figure of speech ? 

10. Caledon. Caledonia, the Roman name of Scotland. 
Look up the Caledonian Canal. 

14. Each according pause. See " Marmion," II, 2, for a 
description of the musical interludes in the harpist's chanting. 

18. Find a line in Milton's " L'Allegro " suggested by 
this line. 

19. Note a trace of the influence of Milton on Scott by 
reading the first few lines of " Lycidas," compared with 
this stanza. 

29. Monan's rill. A Scotch martyr of the fourth century. 
No rill named for him. 

31. Glcnartncy. A valley northeast of Callander. 

33. Benvoirlich. A mountain to the north of Glenartney. 

45. Beamed frontlet. Explain this. 

53. Uam-Var. A den or cavern northeast of Callander, tra- 
ditionally the abode of a giant, but known to have been fre- 
quented by robbers. 

54. Explain the use of yelled and opening. 

66. Cairn.. What is it? What was Thoreau's cairn? 

67. Rout. Explain this word. 

71* Linn. An old Celtic word for pool. 
84. Shrezvdly. How does Shakespeare use this word? 
89. Menteith. A section of Perthshire watered by the 
river Teith. 

91. How is moss used here? 

92. Lochard and Aberfoyle. Lochard, a lake south of Loch 
Katrine. Aberfoyle, a village just east of it. 

95. Loch Achrey. A lake between Loch Katrine and Loch 
Vennachar, and near the pass of the Trosachs. 

97. Benvenue. A mountain south of Loch Katrine. 

103. Cambusmore. The estate of the Buchanan family, 
which Scott visited in his youth and from which he walked 
about the Trossachs, near Callander. 

189 



Lady of the Lake 



lo.s. Bcnlcdi. A mountain northwest of Callander, 

io6. Bochastle. A moor between Loch Vennachar and 

Callander. 

107. Teith. Streams from Loch Voil and Loch Katrme form 

the Teith River. 

111. Vannachar. Already explained, 

112. Brigg of Turk. A bridge over the Turk, a stream in 
the valley of Glenfinlas. 

115. Scourge and steel. Explain these words, 

117. Embossed. An ofd hunting term. 

120. Saint Hubert. Saint Hubert was a hunter. Abbots who 
succeeded him kept a breed of hunting hounds in his memory. 

127. Quarry. What does this word mean? 

138. IVhinyard. A short sword. See " The Bride of Lam- 
mermoor," Chap, ix, for a sunilar account of this episode, 

145. Trosachs. " The rough or bristled " territory between 
Lochs Katrine and Vennachar. 

163. Banks of Seine. When and for what purpose did 
James visit France? 

166. What is the meaning of this line? 

184. Western ivaz'es. The description of the Trosachs which 
Scott here gives covering several stanzas reflects his visit to these 
regions in 1809. It should be read aloud, noting the abundant 
imagery, the evidences of the painter's eye. 

197. Sliinar. See Genesis xi. 1-9, for account of the Tower 
of Babel. 

201-2. What are cupola, minaret, pagod? 

217. Bozver. How is this word used here? 

263. Loch Katrine. Already referred to. 

277. Ben-an. A mountain north of the Trosachs, What 
figure of speech in this line? Compare this stanza with stanza xii 
for superior poetic imagery, 

285, Cloister. Here used for the entire monastery, 

313. Highland plunders. These clans frequently pilla^^ed 
the Lowlands. 

318, Falchion. What is it? 

342. Naiad. Explain this line, 

344. Explain these characters. Is the description of this 
stanza overdrawn ? 

363. Snood. A band of ribbon worn by Scotch maidens 
about their hair, replaced, upon m.arriage, with a coif or cap. 
Plaid. A strip of woolen cloth, some ten yards in length, draped 
about the body to the knee. Each clan had its own colors 
and pattern. 

404. Prune. How is this word used? 

408. Wont. Ask your teacher to explain the Anglo-Saxon 
origin of this word. 

409-430. Compare this description of James with the his- 
torical account. 

190 



Lady of the Lake 



438. Pulled. What figure of speech is this? 

440. Ptarmigan and heath-cock. Have we these wild fowl 
in America? 

441. Mere. Lake. Find an English lake using this word 
in its name. 

443. Rood. Cross. What palace in Scotland uses this word 
in its name ? 

452. Fay. Who wrote " The Culprit Fay " ? 

460. The " second sight " powers of Allan-Bane were charac- 
teristic of the belief of the Highlanders. Explain what it means. 

464. Lincoln green. Named for the town in which it was 
made. Can you name other articles named from the place in 
which they are made? 

475. Errant-knight. Is this the proper order of these words, 
and what does it mean? 

476. Sooth. Give the modern word for this. 

478. Emprise. Give the modern spelling of this word. 

481. Frigate. Is this word used correctly, as we under- 
stand it? 

487. Shallop. This word also. 

492. Rocky isle. Ellen's Isle. From pictures, guide books, 
etc., write a description of this island. Explain the necessity 
of using it as a hiding place. 

525. Idccan. Pertaining either to' Mount Ida near ancient 
Troy, or to Mount Ida in the island, Crete. 

537. Angry steel. What figure of speech? Find the his- 
torical parallel of this incident. 

547. Target. A shield. 

573. Ferragus or Ascabart. Medieval giants. 

581. Canto II, stanza xiii, explains this line. 

585. The Highlanders carried hospitality to the extreme. 

591. Snowdoun. See Canto VI, stanza xxviii, for explana- 
tion of this title. 

592. Barren heritage. Explain this historical reference, 
595. Wot. Ask your teacher to explain the Anglo-Saxon use 

of this word. 

598. Lord Moray. Who was he? 

602. Require. Elizabethan use of request. What did the 
word discover mean then ? 

616. Weird. Is this word used as Shakespeare used the 
word "weird" with reference to the witches in "Macbeth'"? 
Down. Hill. 

622. Harp. How the noisy bagpipe came to be used in Scot- 
land instead of the melodious harp is not known. 

623. Symphony. In what special sense is this word now used? 

624. The metre of this line and of the song it introduces 
is different from the prevailing metre of the poem. Name both. 

638. Pibroch. A Highland air, here used for the bagpipe 
which plays it. What figure of speech? 

191 



Lady of the Lake 



642. Bittern. Goldsmith, in " The Deserted Village," de- 
scribes this bird. Read Thoreau's description of the loon 
in " Walden." 

674. Broken dreams. His dreams presaged the closing scenes 
of his life. 

704. Grisly. A poetic word for horrible. 

721. Aspens slept. Explain this phrase. 

729. Exiled race. See " Tales of a Grandfather," chap, xxvi, 
for an explanation of this reference to the Douglas family. 
What is its dramatic value at this point in the poem ? 

738. Orison. This word and bead, lines 297 and 741, indi- 
cate what religious faith ? 

Which excels in this Canto, narration or description? By 
what means does Scott get his effects? Are they natural and 
clear ? What elements of the plot are revealed in this Canto ? 
Do you find in this Canto any evidences of Scott's personal 
and social ideals? Are there any portions that could better 
have been told in prose? What so far is in greater evidence — 
Scott's personal observations from his travels, his knowledge of 
people, or his knowledge of books? 



Canto II 

7. Minstrel. Tell the class about the functions of the min- 
strel, or bard, in the old Scottish household. 

15-16. What lines of a song in Shakespeare's "As You Like 
It" do these lines suggest? What historical reference has 
Allan-Bane in mind? 

17, Speed. Meaning? Quote two proverbs using this word 
in its real meaning. 

23. Meed. What does this word mean? 

94. Parts. Old use for departs. See Gray, Goldsmith, and 
the Bible. 

109. Grceme. Graham. This was a distinguished family. 
Malcolm's ancestor fought with Wallace. 

112. Hall and boufcr. The living-room and private chamber, 
respectively, of members of the family, This usage is as old 
as Spenser. 

131. Saint Modan. A Scotch abbot of the seventh century 
skilled on the harp, 

141. Bothzvell. The ruins of this celebrated Douglas castle, 
which Scott visited in 1799, may still be seen near Glasgow on 
the Clyde River. 

142. Douglases. See note on line 729, Canto I. 

159. From Tzveed to Spey. From the south of Scotland to 
the north. Do you know of a similar expression in the Bible, 
and one common to the United States? 

170. Reave. What does our use of the word bereft sug- 
gest here? 

192 



Lady of the Lake 



200. The Lady of the Bleeding Heart. Robert Bruce, on his 
death-bed, bequeathed his heart to his friend, James Douglas, and 
asked that he carry it with him in the war against the Saracens. 
It now Hes buried in Melrose Abbey. Ever since the Douglas 
family displays a heart on their shield. 

206. Strathspey. A Highland dance. 

212. Sir Roderick. Roderick Dhu (black), the chieftain of 
the Alpine Clan, or band, owing original allegiance to a mythi- 
cal king, Kenneth MacAlpine. 

214. Loch Lomond. The largest and most imposing of the 
Scottish lakes. See map. Do you know the old song, " Loch 
Lomond " ? Some member of the class should sing this song 
or play it on the phonograph. 

216. Lennox foray. A raid on the lands of the Lennox 
family, south of Loch Lomond. 

221. Holy-Rood. Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh. 

230. Disowned. See " History of the House of Douglas," 
Vol. H, p. 160. 

235. Guerdon. Poetic use of rezvard. 

236. Dispensation. Roderick and Ellen were cousins ; they 
could not marry without special dispensation from the Pope. 

254. Shrciids. Old use of protects. 

260. Maronnan's cell. A parish east of Loch Lomond dedi- 
cated to Saint Maronnan. Cell means chapel. What does 
votaress mean? 

270. Brack linn. On the mountain stream, Keltic, a mile from 
Callander, is this beautiful cascade. 

274. Claymore. Sword. 

303. Woe the zvhile. Woe occurs often in the poem. What 
does it mean? 

306. Tine-man. Archibald, the third Earl of Douglas, ac- 
quired this title because he tincd (lost) his followers in every 
battle he fought. 

308. Hotspur. Lord Percy, who fought against Henry IV of 
England. Read Shakespeare's play, " Henry IV." 

309. Self-unscabbarded. According to fairy-lore swords have 
the po\wer to unsheath themselves at the approach of their 
owner's foes. 

319. Beltane game. A Celtic festival held May i in honor of 
the sun, at which fires were kindled on the hill tops at night. 

327. Canna. The down of cotton grass. 

335. Glengyle. A valley north of Loch Katrine. 

337. Brianchoil. A promontory on the north shore of 
the lake. 

340. Bannered pine. The pine was the insignia of Rod- 
erick's clan. 

343. Tartan. The checkered woolen cloth worn by the 
Scoitch. Brave. How used? 

345. Bonnets. Scotch caps. 

13 193 



Lady of the Lake 

351. Chanters. The pipes of the bagpipes, 

363. Thrilling sounds. The pibroch was a well-organized 
composition descriptive of battle and human emotions. Read 
Stevenson's " Kidnapped," Chap, xxv, for an account of the 
piping contest between Allan Breck and Robin Oig. 

392. Burden. Refrain or chorus, 

396, Roderick Vich- Alpine, ho! iro! Vich means descen- 
dant from. 

399. Hail to the Chief. The metre of this verse is like that 
in Tennyson's " Charge of the Light Brigade " and Longfellow's 
" Skeleton in Armor." It has been set to music by Sanderson, 

405. Bourgeon. Poetic for sprout or blossom. 

416, Breadalbane. The section north of Loch Lomond and 
about Loch Tay, 

419, Glen Fruin. A valley southwest of Loch Lomond, 

420, Bannochar. Another valley adjoining, 

421, Glen Luss and Ross-dhu. Other nearby valleys. Castles 
in ruins mark the spots. 

426. Levin-glen. The valley of the Levin River^ which con- 
nects Loch Lomond with the Clyde. 

431. Rosebud. Explain this reference? 

497. Percy's Norman pennon. Taken in a raid before the bat- 
tle c^f Otterburn, 1388, and recounted in the ballads of 
" Chevy Chase," 

504, Waned crescent. Refers to the defeat of the Saracens 
whose insignia is the crescent. 

506. Blantyre. The ruins of this priory may still be seen 
on the Clyde River near Bothwell Castle. 

513, Out-beggars. Explain this, 

525, Unhooded. Why were falcons hooded? 

527, Fabled Goddess. Who was she, and what was her 
chief interest? 

548, Ben Lomond. One of the steepest and highest of the 
Scotch mountains. See map, 

574. Glenfinlas. A dense valley between Ben-an and 
Vennachar, 

577, Royal zvard. What does this mean? 

583, Strath-Endrick. A valley southeast of Loch Lomond. 

615, King's vindictive pride. See " Tales of a Grandfather," 
Chap, xxvii, for an explanation of this reference, 

623. Meggat's mead. The Meggat is a stream flowing into 
the Yarrow, a branch of the Ettrick, itself a branch of the 
Tv/eed, The Teviot also flows into the Tweed. 

678. Links of Forth. Windings oif the Forth River. 

679, Stirling's porch. Stirling's gate. Where located? 
What is its history? 

683, Blench. Meaning of this word? 
691, Bootless. What does this word mean? 
694. Beetled. What is the figure of speech here? 
194 



Lady of the Lake 



702. Battled fence. Parapet. 

77S. Minion. What is the meaning of this term? 

809. Henchman. A vassal to a Lord, always at his side, or 
haunch, to do' his bidding, or venture his life in his 
master's defense. 

831. Fiery Cross. See Canto III, line 18, 

867. Cormorant. What is this? 

How much is the plot advanced in this Canto? Does Scott 
paint Roderick in too dark colors ? Does he show Malcolm off 
to the best advantage? Did Douglas act wisely^ in the quarrel 
between Malcolm and Roderick? How do the purely descriptive 
passages in this Canto compare with those in Canto I ? What 
dramatic elements do you find in this Canto? What customs 
of the Highlanders do you find in this Canto? 



Canto III 

18. The Fiery Cross. The method of summoning a clan by 
performing the ceremony of The Fiery Cross is fully explained 
in the action of this Canto. Scott's own " Notes '' give additional 
information. On one occasion it made the circuit of the district 
of Breadalbane, a tract of land of thirty-two miles, in 
three hours. 

25-28. What is the meaning of these lines ? 

39. Cushat dove. Ring-dove. 

62. Rozvan. The mountain-ash. 

65, Brian the Hermit. Again Scott's account in the poem 
is ample description of this monk, but his " Notes " give addi- 
tional explanation of his origin and the customs of the time. 

74. Benharrozv. A mountain near the head of Loch Lomond. 

76. Druid. A priest of the early Celtic inhabitants of Gaul 
and Britain. 

81. Flallowcd creed. What is the meaning of this phrase? 

87. Strath. A broad valley in contrast to a glen, a nar- 
row one. 

104. Fieldfare. English thrush. 

142. Cabala. Mysteries. 

154. River Demon. A malicious spirit of the Lowlands. 

168. Bcn-Shie. A personal spirit which is supposed to watch 
over one's prosperity, warding off calamity by a " boding scream." 

171. Shingly. Pebbly. 

191. Inch-calliach. The Isle of Nuns, a beautiful island at 
the lower end of Loch Lomond. 

198. Anathema. Meaning of this word? 

253. Coir-Uriskin. Den of the wild men, a very steep and 
romantic hollow in the mountain of Benvenue. See Stanza xxvi 
of this Canto. 

255. Beala-nam-bo. Pass of the cattle, near Coir-Uriskin. 

286. Lanrick mead. Near Loch Vennachar. 

195 



Lady of the Lake 



310. Scaur. Cliff. 

341, Achray. A lake between Loch Katrine and Loch 
Vennachar. 

344. Bosky. Woody. 

349. Duncraggan. Near the Brigg of Turk. 

369. Coronach. A song of lamentation. Music of this song 
can be procured and should be played or sung while studying 
this Canto. The metre is different from any that precedes. 
Scan it. 

386. Corrci. Hollow in which game hides. 

387. Cumber. Trouble. 

394. Stumah. " Faithful," the name of a dog. 

453- Strath-Ire. A valley on the east of Benledi. 

480-1. Tomhca and Armandave. Two homesteads in 
Strath-Ire. 

528. Ltihnaig's lake. A lake near Benledi. 

541. Brae. Meaning of this word? 

544. This song also has been set to music and should 
be used. 

546. Bracken. Fern. 

570. Balquidder. A village near the east end of Loch Voil, 
the burial place of Rob Roy. 

577. Coil. Turmoil. 

579. Loch Doinc. A lake above Loch Voil. 

580. Balvaig. A stream connecting these lakes. 

582. Strath-Gartncy. The north side of Loch Katrine. 

607-9. Rcdnock, Car dross, Duchray. Nearby castles. 

610. Loch Con. Southwest of Loch Katrine. 

713. Ave Maria. Use Schubert's beautiful setting to this song. 

In the second stanza of this Canto we have a description 
of a lake. The general atmosphere of this description is par- 
alleled in Debussy's music, " En Bateau," which is worth playing 
while these lines are read. The appeal to patriotism in stanzas 
xiv and xv is well expressed in the music of Sibelius' " Fin- 
landia." Follov/ the co'urse of The Fiery Cross on the map. 
What elements of plot in this Canto correspond with the rising 
action of a play? Discuss the part superstition plays in the 
Highlander's mind. What is the most vivid descriptive passage 
in this Canto? 



Canto IV 

5. Wilding. Poetic for wild. 

19. Doune. A castle on the north bank of the Teith re- 
ferred to in " Waverley." 

29. Glentarkin. The name of the sleeper's homestead used 
for his own name. What figure of speech? 
2,6. Boune. Ready. 

63. Taghairm. A Highland ceremony of inquiring into the 
196 



Lady of the Lake 



future, practised also by the Latins and Greeks. See Virgil's 
^nid," vii, 86. 

68. Gallangad. A district below Loch Lomond. 

yZ- Kerns. Light-armed soldiers. Heavy-armed soldiers 
were called gallowglasses. See " Macbeth," i, 2, 13. 

74. Beal 'maha. East of Loch Lomond. 

yy. Dcnnan's Roiv. The point from which best to ascend 
Ben Lomond . 

78. Scathlcss. Meaning of this word? 

82. Boss. Knob. 

84. Hero's Targe. A rock in the forest of Glenfinals by 
which a cataract takes its course. 

98. Broke. Cutting up the deer. 

112. Sentient. Meaning of this word? 

137. Tasted blood. What figure of speech? 

150. Glaive. Sword. What is the Latin for sword? 

152-3. Moray, Mar. Commanders in the army of King James. 

160. Earn. A river of that name, and the district about 
Loch Earn. 

174. Stance. Station or position. 

198. Streamers of the north. What is this reference? 

223. Trowed. Believed. What English word does this 
suggest ? 

231. Cambns-kenneth. An abbey near Stirling. Meaning 
of fane? 

262. Mavis, merle. Thrush, blackbird. Scan this ballad. 
Compare it with the Robin Hood ballads. 

267, 305. Wold. Open country, not woods. 

277. Vest. Garment in general. Pall. Rich cloth from 
which mantles are made. 

285. Vair. Fur of the grey squirrel. 

298. Woned. Dwelt. 

306. Fatal green. Fairies were supposed to prefer this color, 
and to take offense if mortals wore it. 

307. Urgan. A fairy messenger. 
330. Kindly. Kindred. 

371. Dunfermline. A town northwest of Edinburgh, long the 
residence of Scottish kings, and in the abbey of which Robert 
Bruce lies buried. 

392. Augur scathe. Predict mischief. 

437. Train. Enticement. 

500. Fared. Went. What other words contain faref 

506. Weeds. Garments. " Widow's weeds." 

511. Broom. Heather. 

531. Allan. A Perthshire stream. "On the Banks of Allan 
Water," Burns. 

532. Dcva. A Perthshire stream. " Crystal Devon, Winding 
Devon," Burns. 

555. Maudlin. Contracted from Magdalen. Mary Magda- 
197 



Lady of the Lake 



lene is represented by painters as weeping. How do^ we use this 
word to-day? 

567. Batten. Fatten. 

590, ToilSy stakes. Snares. What is the significance of 
this song? 

722. Summer solstice. What date is this? 

787. Coilant ogle's ford. On the Teith River just below Loch 
Vennachar. 

What is the meaning of Norman's song? Which is more 
expressive, this poem or MacDowell's composition, " To a Wild 
Rose"? Which song in this Canto is the most significant? 
Could it be omitted from the poem without' affecting the action ? 
What was the origin of Brian's prophecy, and how seriously 
was it considered by the Highlanders? How sincere was James 
with Ellen? How would you treat this story if Ellen had 
accepted James's offer? Was Blanche's request of James suf- 
ficient to induce him to wreak vengeance on Roderick? Is 
Roderick's hospitality toward James more than mere hospitality? 
Any new traits of the characters shown in this Canto? Is the 
turning point of the story in this Canto? 

Canto V 

18. Gael. Highlander. Saxon is Lowlander. 

89. Mar. The Earl of Mar. 

108. Regent. The Duke of Albany, relative to James. 

125. Truncheon. A staff, symbol of authority. 

126. Mezvcd. Imprisoned. 

153. Target and claymore. Weapons of the ancient Britons. 

253. Jack. Coat-oif-armor worn by foot-soldiers. 

356. Carpet knight. A knight who graces the court rather 
than the battlefield. 

364. Ruth. Pity. 

373. Falchion. What kind of an implement? 

380. Targe. Shield. 

390. What figure of speech is this line? 

468. Bayard. His bay horse. 

488. Carhonie's hill. A mile from Loch Vannachar. 

490. Torry, Lendrick, Deanstozun. Towns on the Tieth 
near Stirling. 

494-502. Blair-Drummond, Ochtcrtyre, Kiev, Craig-Forth. 
Family seats known to Scott. 

525. Saint Serle. An invention of Scott to rhyme with Earl. 

550. A Douglas. See " Tales of a Grandfather," chap. xxi. 

558. Franciscan. The steeple of Grey-Friars, built by James 
IV in 1494. The Franciscans were Grey-Friars. Name the 
other orders. 

562. Morrice-danccrs. A masked dance introduced into 
Scotland from Spain. See "The Abbot," Chap, xiv, for an 
interesting description of these dances. 

198 



Lady of the Lake 



564. Every burgh in Scotland had its day of sports. 

572. Stark. Strong. 

584. Jennet. What is a jennet? 

613. Butts. Targets. 

614. Robin Hood. Tell the class some of the stories of 
Robin Hood and his followers listed in the lines following. 
Read Scott's " Ivanhoe," Tennyson's " The Foresters," Noyes' 
" Sherwood," and the Ballads of Robin Hood. For a number 
of years a masquerade of this band played a large part in the 
folk festivals. After the Reformation they were prohibited. 

615. Qiiarterstaff. Recall the incident of Friar Tuck and his 
quarterstafif in " Ivanhoe." 

630. Wight. An ordinary archer. 
6^7. Larbert. A town ten miles south of Stirling. 
638. Alloa. A town seven miles east of Stirling. 
660. Ladies" Rock. A point in the valley between Stirling 
Castle and Greyfriars Church. 
729. Amain. With violence. 
747. Ward. Confinement. 

768. Hynford. A village on the Clyde River. 

769. Knighthood. How was knighthood conferred? 

838. Cognizance. The distinguishing mark worn by an armed 
knight. " The sable pale of Mar." See Canto IV, 153. 

887. Earl William. The Douglas who was stabbed by 
James II. 

Study carefully the description of the fight between James 
and Roderick, and note how dramatically it is given in poetry. 
Compare it with a prose account of a fight ; for example, " The 
Breakfast at the Bastion," in " The Three Musketeers," Dumas, 
or in some modern story. Compare the account of the sports 
with those in Homer's "Iliad," xxiii; Virgil's " ^nid," v, and 
Milton's " Paradise Lost," ii, 506-569. In reading stanzas i and ii 
of this Canto, play Rossini's " Dawn," from the " William Tell " 
overture, and note how the composer has described in music 
what the poet has told in words. What elements of human 
character may be seen in the fight between Roderick and James, 
and in the intercourse between James and the Douglas at the 
sports ? ^ Note that the imprisonment of Ellen's father creates 
a situation of dramatic suspense, in light of the pledge given 
Ellen by James in Canto IV. 

Canto VI 

3. What is a catifF? 

15. What is the meaning of gyve? 

42. Harness. Armor. 

53. Fleming. The Flemish were blest with fertile soil. 

60. Halberd. A combination of spear and battle-ax. 

75. Burden. Chorus. 

78. Trent. A river in England. 

199 



Lady of the Lake 



8i. Host. Army. Compare the Biblical use, " Hosts of 
the Philistines." 

III. Ghent. A town in Flanders. 

128. Wax. Meaning? Can you quote a line in a hymn using 
this word? 

131. Juggler. Jongleurs. Who were they? 

170. Needwood. A forest in Staffordshire, England. 

183. Tullibardine. An estate near Stirling. 

221. Hest. Command. 

227. Guerdon. Reward. 

234. Barret-cap. Cloth cap. 

290, Garniture. What does this word mean? 

2gs. Leech. Physician. Why so called? 

306. Prore. Prow, a poetic use. 

347. Dermid's race. The clan of the Campbells. 

369. Beal an Duine. Pass of the man. A fight really took 
place here, ending as Allan describes, but it occurred later than 
this, in the time of Cromwell. 

277. Eyry. Nest. Erne. Eagle. 

405. Battalia. Army. 

414. Vaivard. Vanward, or vanguard. 

452. Tinchel. A circle oif sportsmen surrounding the deer 
in the chase. 

488. Linn. Cataract. 

539. Bonnet-pieces. Gold pieces on which were stamped the 
head of King James wearing a bonnet, or cap. 

545. Casque, corslet. What are they? 

553. Riven. How used here? 

576. Elemental rage. Rage of the elements. 

586. Bothzvell's lord. Douglas. 

591. Bracked. Endured. 

611. Requiem. What is a requiem? 

638. Storied pane. Windows on which stories were painted. 
Can you find a similar line in Milton's "II Penseroso"? 

642. Collation. Banquet. 

665. Perch and hood. What do these terms mean? 

668. Thrall. What is the meaning of this word? 

707. Prime. This word usually refers to 6 a.m., an hour of 
prayer, but here means the first thing in the morning. 

726. Presence. Presence-chamber. 

737- Sheen. What does this word mean? Suggest a word 
derived from it. 

740. Scott borrowed this idea of disguise from Scottish tra- 
ditiom, though some see in it a reference to the old Arabian tale, 
" II Bondocani." 

741. What figure of speech in this line? 
780. Pry. Look curiously. 

782. Proselyte. 

784. To speed. To a favorable conclusion. 
200 



Lady of the Lake 



802. Talisman. Charm. 

813. Grace. Pardon. 

825. Stained. How used here? 

837. Warder. How used? 

Compare the structure and meaning of the Epilogue, " Harp 
of the North, farewell ! " etc., with the same elements in the 
Prologue at the very beginning of the poem. What qualities of 
human nature are exhibited by the soldiers in the Guard-room? 
Which is the more vivid, the fight between Roderick and James, 
or the battle of Beal' an Duine as described by Allan-Bane? 
Stanzas xxiii and xxiv describe the song of the imprisoned 
huntsman singing to Ellen as she listens. Saint-Saens' " Sere- 
nade " suggests this scene, the 'cello indicating the air and the 
harp suggesting the general backgroimd. Follow the progress of 
the poem as a story and as a drama. Compare the characters 
and scenes with your own acquaintances and observations. Com- 
pare them with others in Scott's novels or other books. 



201 



IV 



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